Emerald Eyes, Silver Tongue
by ExaltedChaos
Summary: Harriet Potter wanted two things in life; to escape from the Dursley's, and to make her mark on the world. When she is brought back into the world of Magic, it is that second desire that would change everything. Fem!Harry, Slytherin!Harry. Rated for occasional language, mature themes, and general future-proofing. Begins 31 July, 1991, planned to run through all seven books.
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** This lovely woman known as J K Rowling owns the setting and characters. As sad as it is, that woman isn't me.

**00000**

Harriet Lily Potter rolled over on her tiny bed in the cupboard under the stairs at Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging Surrey. Squinting at the clock that she had stolen from Dudley that sat on the floor, she made out the time.

4:37 am, on 31 July 1991. She had been eleven years old for four hours and thirty seven minutes. The logical piece of her mind reminded her that she should be asleep, because birthday or not she had chores to do, starting bright and early. And, truth be told, she was exhausted. However, the other, less logical part of her brain, couldn't stop running through what had occurred the previous day at the zoo.

Dudley had wanted to go for his twelfth birthday the previous week. However, they had arrived there to find that the Reptile House was closed for maintenance. So the entire trip was scrapped, and they had gone back the next week.

As such, it was 30 July, 1991 that Harriet had discovered she could talk to snakes. Not only that, but that they seemed to be highly perceptive.

Harriet would never truly realize just how much that hurried, whispered conversation with a certain Brazilian Boa Constrictor would change her fate. The snake's parting words kept echoing through her mind.

"_Ssspeaker, though you now live in a cage, thisss will not alwaysss be ssso. When you leave that place, remember that you ssspeak the One True Tongue, and those that Ssspeak_ _are dessstined for greatnesss, if you only have the cunning to achieve it."_

One word resonated within her. _Cunning_. Harriet knew she was smart, although she had to make sure that her grades in primary school didn't reflect that.

"But that's just it, isn't it?" she mused to herself. "For half my life, I've had to keep my grades lower than my idiot cousin. For years now, I've unknowingly been creeping through shadows, letting people see only what they want to. I think I'm pretty good at this _Cunning_ thing. Now I just need to escape this cage…"

Another squinted glance at the clock. 5:04. She needed to start making breakfast in two hours and eleven minutes. But first, she needed sleep.

**00000**

Harriet Potter smirked faintly to herself as she watch her family drive away from King's Cross. 'It's rather nice to be respected for once, even if it is born of fear. I should thank Hagrid again when I get up to school.'

It was 1 September 1991. Harriet Potter, pushing along a trunk with her rather meager collection of belongings and a bird cage for Hedwig, ventured into the station, seeking Platform 9 ¾. She quickly found Platforms 9 and 10, but there was nothing between them. Resolving that, unless this is just the single most elaborate prank ever pulled, everyone else going to Hogwarts today need to get to this hypothetical platform and as such, there must be a way, Harriet pulled her trolley to the side, out of the main thoroughfare, and watched the space between 9 and 10. Not five minutes later, a rather loud group of redheads came into view. Interestingly, they then proceeded to take turns running _through_ the brick barrier separating Platform 9 from Platform 10.

Almost unconsciously, Harriet raised a single eyebrow at the sight. Nearly a minute later, she blinked, lowered her eyebrow, and followed their lead. She had no idea what sight she expected to see, but whatever it happened to be was nowhere near this.

The cherry red Hogwarts Express sat proudly on a track that wasn't there before, underneath a sign reading "Platform 9 ¾". All around her, kids with trollies similar to her own were saying goodbye to parents and guardians then hefting their trunks onto the train. Somewhere in the back of Harriet's mind, the words of _The Wizard of Oz_ that she had heard one night through the door of her cupboard echoed to the forefront.

"Why yes, Dorothy. I think you're right. We are certainly not in Kansas anymore." Somewhere to her right, Harriet heard a small gasp, followed by footsteps and squeaking trolley wheels. Turning, Harriet saw a girl her own age, and similarly alone, walking up to her.

"Oh thank goodness. Another Muggleborn. I mean, all this magic is so _fascinating_, but it's good to find someone else that wasn't raised by it, you know? I do hope we could be friends." The bushy, brown haired girl had seeming said it all on one continuous exhale. However, Harriet resisted the urge to comment. 'No sense being rude. I don't exactly know anyone in the magical world either, save Hagrid.' The other girl had caught her breath.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't introduce myself. I'm Hermione Granger." The raven haired girl smiled at her first real friend in the magical world.

"Hi, Hermione. I'm Harriet Potter." The deafening silence coming from Hermione was already unnerving, despite Harriet having met her perhaps sixty seconds prior. The way Hermione's mouth was moving, as if forming silent words, reminded Harriet a great deal of her trip to Diagon Alley. Already, being famous in the magical world was becoming a chore. And Hermione, by her own admission, had learned of the existence of magic less than a year prior. For the first time, Harriet wished she wasn't the Girl-Who-Lived.

She would make that wish eight more times. Before bed that night. She noticed Hermione had found her voice again.

"You're…THE Harriet Potter? The Girl-Who-Lived? The one who killed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? The single most famous witch alive? The most famous person alive in the magical world under the age of one hundred and fifty? I've read all about you. I had no idea you were starting Hogwarts this year. I mean, I should have. I could have just done the math to know when you'd be eleven. Can…can I see your scar?"

Harriet was mildly impressed. 'How does she do that? She must have one hell of a pair of lungs.' She would have been more impressed had the latest rant not been about that apparently legendary night when she was like fifteen months old when her parents had died, and thus got her stuck at the Dursley's. She cleared her throat.

"Listen, Hermione. I don't really remember anything about that night. All I do remember is what is likely my mother screaming before she died. I would prefer to think about it as little as possible. If you would like to be friends, can we please not talk about this?" The bushy haired girl immediately looked contrite.

"I'm sorry, Harriet. I wasn't thinking." The brevity of the statement caught Harriet off guard. She caught herself, and smiled at her friend.

"Thank you, Hermione. Come on, shall we find a compartment?" Hermione nodded, smiling back at the raven haired girl.

Several hours, a missing toad, a quest to find said toad, and a few too many sweets later, Harriet Potter found herself in a compartment with a rather eclectic group. She was in the corner, next to the window. Next to her was Hermione, across was Neville Longbottom, and Blaise Zabini occupied the opposite corner. Current conversation was hopeful Sorting results.

"Neville, it doesn't matter if you don't get into Gryffindor like your parents."

"But, Hermione…" Blaise rolled his eyes.

"As much as it already irks me to say it, Granger has a point, Longbottom. From what I've heard, the Sorting is easy and painless, and it's never wrong." Hermione looked offended, both Neville and Harriet were trying to conceal smiles, to varying degrees of success. Blaise, seeing a way to hopefully diffuse Hermione before she blew up, seeing as he didn't want to end up like Weasley earlier, took it.

"So, Harriet. Where do you think you'll end up?" Harriet had been pondering that self-same question since Hermione had explained the four Houses earlier. The words of a Brazilian Boa Constrictor bubbled up to the surface.

"I would do alright in Ravenclaw, probably. I do like learning. But I imagine I'll end up in Slytherin. A…friend once told me my cunning would take me places. I've always liked snakes, too." Hermione just stared at the dark haired girl, gob smacked. Neville looked slightly worried. Blaise looked intrigued, but not surprised at her answer. Hermione spoke first.

"_Slytherin?_ But, Harriet…" Hermione found herself cut off.

"Hermione, it's the same thing we were saying to Neville when he was worried about landing in Hufflepuff. No one House is better or worse than any other. Regardless of who was in what House in the past. What matters is who you are, and whether or not you can be honest with yourself about it. It's just personality traits. Cunning, Curiosity, Loyalty, or Bravery. Are you Ambitious, Wise, Hard-working, or Noble? What matters is where we belong."

The compartment fell into silence. The other three occupants were staring at Harriet after her short rant. Harriet herself was just trying to not fell self-conscious. Her efforts were largely in vain. Neville was the first to speak, looking contemplative.

"Harriet is right, I think. I mean, unless you're always bringing it up, no one really knows or cares what House you were in a couple years after you graduate. Your OWLs and NEWTs matter a lot more." Blaise sat back in his seat, smirking.

"You have a point, Longbottom. There may be hope for you yet. Now, as enlightening as this conversation is, we should likely change into our school robes, we can't be far now." As he spoke, the four felt the train start to slow down. A few minutes of alternate furiously scrambling and standing outside the compartment looking pointedly anywhere but inside later, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. Double-checking that she had her wand, Harriet led the group in pulling her trunk onto the platform. Down the street, she saw Hagrid, swinging a lantern. Harriet looked excited, while Neville and Hermione looked slightly worried to see someone that large. Blaise schooled his face into practiced indifference. Harriet saw it, and considered making a Blaise/blasé joke, but decided not to. The half-giant's booming voice reached their ears as they walked forward.

"First years! First years, over here!" Harriet looked at her three friends.

"Well, that's us. Come on, let's get up to the school."

**00000**

The assembled first years in an antechamber off the Great Hall looked anxious, as a rule. Whispered rumors of the exact nature of the sorting flew around the room. Those rumors silenced themselves as McGonnagall led them into the hall. All eyes locked onto the old hat sitting atop the stool. General anxiety multiplied when the hat began to _sing_. After the hat quieted down, the Scot Transfiguration professor pulled out her list.

Hannah Abbott, by virtue of her last name, got to go first. The general anxiety quelled to pre-song levels when the rest of the first years saw that all you had to do was put on the hat. Blaise, secretly hating his last name, slinked to the back of the line, knowing he would be last.

The first hiccup of the Sorting was Hermione Granger. She sat on the stool, the hat was placed on her head, the whole room waited. And waited. Then waited some more.

Nearly three minutes of deliberation later, the occupants of the room jumped slightly as the silence was suddenly broken with a shout of "RAVENCLAW!" Harriet and Blaise shared a look of relief.

"I was hoping for Ravenclaw for her." Blaise grunted his agreement.

"Mhm. Much easier for Slytherins to be seen with Ravenclaws than Gryffindors."

Then, of course, Neville was sorted into Gryffindor.

"Well, there goes that friend." Harriet sighed deeply.

"I'm not going to declare the friendship dead yet, Blaise. Besides, it could help to have a friend in the Lions." Blaise frowned thoughtfully.

"Yeah, that it will. We'll have to keep our distance, but the value is there."

"We'll have to keep some distance with Hermione, too. She's a Muggleborn, remember. And from what you've told me about Slytherin House…" Blaise opened his mouth to reply, but it was cut off by McGonnagall calling the next name for Sorting.

"Potter, Harriet!" The Great Hall immediately fell into a deep silence as the petite, black haired girl walked calmly up to the stool. The hat was placed on her head, and the silence of the room somehow deepened.

Five minutes later, some of the students began to whisper again. Five more minutes later, the entire Great Hall was alive with murmured conversations. As another five minutes passed, some of the teachers began to look at her oddly. As the twenty minute mark approached, the Sorting Hat finally made a decision.

"SLYTHERIN!" The table on the far left erupted into raucous cheering, but the other three tables seemed disappointed that the Girl-Who-Lived had not gone into their House. After the Hat was lifted from her head, Harriet walked calmly over to the cheering table, sitting at the end, a distance away from the other students, intending to wait for the final name so Blaise could join her. Instead, the other newly sorted Slytherins shifted down the table to join her. A pale blond boy sat directly across from her, a large boy moving to either side of him. Harriet failed to completely smother her grimace. She shook her head, purposefully letting her dark hair fall over the right side of her face, hiding her famous scar.

"Draco Malfoy. It has already been brought to my attention that your father is on the Board of Governors. In addition, your ideology regarding blood purity, which I assume is the exact same as your father's, would normally prevent you from interacting with me like this, considering I'm a Half-Blood. Now, unless you're about to surprise me, which I doubt, why are you here?" Reactions were varied, but nearly all were amusing to the young witch. Draco looked furious at being dismissed like he was unimportant. Crabbe and Goyle looked confused. A ways to Harriet's left, Pansy Parkinson matched Draco's anger. Daphne Greengrass, sitting across from Pansy, pretended not to hear, but smiled inwardly at the slight to Malfoy, who had nothing to endear himself to her.

Draco sputtered, trying in vain to return the favor. However, while Harriet knew a bit about Draco thanks to Blaise, Draco knew next to nothing about her, save for the fact that she was the Girl-Who-Lived. And that difference of knowledge seemed to anger him as much as the slight against him. Harriet saw an opening, and took it.

"You know, Draco, if you were capable of actual conversation, just now would have been a great opportunity. I'm surprised, really, that you're sitting here. How did you convince the Sorting Hat to put you into Slytherin, since you so obviously lack any sort of intelligence to speak of, much less actual cunning?" The reactions were less varied, as nearly everyone who was listening grew angry. Draco and Pansy turned red, Pansy slipping towards maroon. Crabbe and Goyle glared. Daphne quickly turned away, and turned her guffaws into a coughing fit. Harriet noticed Daphne's reaction, and filed it away for later while she looked up past Draco, and smiled slightly at Blaise, who had finally been sorted and was making his way over. Blaise, being the last to be sorted, had just enough time for a nod towards the fuming Draco as he sat next to Harriet before Dumbledore stood and drew all attention to him.

**00000**

Later that evening, Harriet was the back of the line following the Prefect to the first year girl's dorms. She sighed to herself. 'I escaped my cage. And yet, I'm still living in a dungeon. Joy.' Moments later, the five first year girls entered their room, and the Girl-Who-Lived rolled her eyes. Their trunks had already been placed at the feet of the admittedly comfortable looking four poster beds. Sorted by last name. Which wedged her between the far wall and Pansy Parkinson, who had done less to endear herself to Harriet than Draco Malfoy. She schooled her face into subtle confidence as she walked to the back of the room, pausing slightly to quickly send a smirk and a wink to Daphne. To Harriet's surprise, Daphne returned the smirk, while the girl next to her, Davis if she remembered correctly, returned the wink with a slight smile. Pointedly ignoring Pansy's glare, Harriet fell onto her bed, stretching out on it for the first time in years. In her mind, she ran over the information Blaise had given her earlier about life in the Snake Pit and the basics of Slytherin politics.

'Davis…she was sitting next to Daphne at dinner. She looked…worried. Then quite relieved when Greengrass also went to Slytherin. So, why would Greengrass need to take Davis under her wing? And what about Slytherin would worry her…blood. It has to be blood. Blaise hadn't known her family like he had all of the others.' Harriet grinned as the pieces fell into place in her mind.

'It fits far too well to be false. Slytherin has two half-blood first years. And with both her and Greengrass behind me, not to mention Blaise, I might just be able to get year leader sooner than I had hoped. It's already obvious that Malfoy is my only competition. Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson are all following him. I know Blaise is behind me. And I think I can assume that Greengrass would much rather throw her lot in with me than Malfoy. Davis will follow Greengrass.' Harriet finished the math in her head.

'Which leaves Miss Bulstrode over there, and Mister Nott. Parkinson, unfortunately, has already started on Bulstrode. She's far more direct than me; short term, Parkinson will win there. So…it all comes down to Nott. I'll talk to Blaise about him tomorrow. Blaise will probably have to do most of the recruiting for him, too. But, if Nott sides with me…then it's just me versus Draco Malfoy. And Draco barely has enough brains to dress himself in the mornings. I won our first round without any real effort. I have the information advantage, thanks to Blaise and Malfoy's inability to shut up. He's terrible at thinking on his feet, too. All he does his bribe and threaten to get what he wants.' Harriet Potter slid off her bed, intent on a bath now that the other four girls were mostly done with the shared bathroom. No one saw her victorious smile as she sank into her bath. But no one needed to, yet. There were still unknown variables in her plan, and at least one major wildcard bearing the name Theodore Nott. But Harriet couldn't shake the feeling of victory.

**00000**

Severus Snape wanted to hate Harriet Potter. He certainly had plenty of reasons to. After all, she was living proof that Lily Evans hadn't chosen him, but instead had chosen James bloody Potter. Harriet had her eyes, but his, untamable hair. Harriet's face was, in Snape's mind, an unholy mix of the girl's parents. And then she had arrived, and had been sorted into Slytherin, his house, so not only did he have more contact with her, but Snape found himself responsible for the girl.

Snape morosely picked at his breakfast. It was only two weeks into term, but Harriet Potter had yet to stop surprising him. The young Potter heiress had certainly inherited Lily's mind. The first day of class, he had called her out, hoping to find a young, Slytherin James. Instead, without much in the way of hesitation, Harriet had been able to adequately answer all of his questions. And, as the days went by, proof came in that Harriet Potter had taken to Slytherin like a niffler to gold. She had met and befriended the Zabini boy on the train, apparently, given their closeness since even the welcoming feast and that Harriet hadn't been blindsided at all by the inner workings of his house.

Harriet Potter was a true Slytherin, more at home in the dungeons than even his godson, and it drove Severus Snape up a tree. Because he was too busy being proud of the girl to hate her properly.

He glanced up the Slytherin table, finding the subject of his ire at her now customary spot at the far end of the table. She sat with her back to the wall, facing the hall. To her right, the Zabini boy read the Daily Prophet, munching on toast. Across the table from them, Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis had just arrived for breakfast.

Snape secretly wondered how exactly that alliance had come about. He resolved to watch them, closely. As they grew, he knew those four, if their alliance held true could do nearly anything. After yesterday's flying lesson fiasco, he knew Harriet, backed by the other three, could rule Slytherin house by her fifth year. Already, most of the older students saw her as year leader, despite his godson's vocal protests otherwise. And deep in his heart, Snape hated the fact that he couldn't bring himself to actually hate the girl.

**00000**

Harriet Potter, walking back to the dungeons from the Charms class the first year Slytherins shared with the 'Puffs, smiled to herself. Today, 13 October, was a big day. At least, in secret. She finally had a contact amongst the badgers. One Ernie MacMillan, to be precise. The 'Puffs had been a hard nut to crack, admittedly. But Harriet was eternally grateful that Longbottom had indeed followed his parents into Gryffindor, as without him, finding a reliable contact with the lions would have been nigh to impossible.

The third day of school, Blaise had mentioned the benefits of an information network. But even Harriet knew that a known informant was a useless informant. The needed secrecy, then, made progress slow. Blaise had expected to need to do everything. But, the next day, Harriet had a plan.

Harriet, over the next week, befriended Daphne Greengrass. Then, Blaise covertly met with Daphne, and between the two of them, could keep tabs on the majority of Slytherin.

Meanwhile, Harriet noticed that Tracey Davis was quite the bright one, and already tended to spend a good amount of time in the library. So Harriet set her up to meet Hermione Granger, who was already making a name for herself as the brightest witch of the age. At the urging of Daphne, Tracey was kept out of the loop about the planned information network. Harriet just left them alone, allowing the bond to develop naturally.

Harriet had planned for Longbottom to eventually become their Gryffindor contact, but perhaps months down the road. Then, of course, he received the Remembrall. The following flying lesson provided a golden opportunity to hit two birds with one stone. She got to knock Malfoy down another peg, and prove to Longbottom that their bond from the train hadn't been forgotten because of the sorting. And all it took was a case of deliciously easy pickpocketing, followed by a short conversation with Longbottom. A couple weeks later, Neville met with Blaise, and agreed to keep tabs on the Gryffindors.

After Neville agreed, Harriet told Tracey about the plan. Two weeks later, Tracey had a stream of information from Ravenclaw, via Hermione.

Then, yesterday, Neville surprised everyone. He casually name dropped Ernie MacMillan as a solid contact for them in Hufflepuff in a conversation with Blaise. And with one conversation over class work in Charms, the network was complete, at least for the moment. Harriet wanted to find a different contact in Hufflepuff for the sake of compartmentalization, a sentiment that Blaise heartily agreed with. The four Slytherins had, to that same end, worked out their own system as well. Blaise, armed with a strong proclivity to keep his mouth shut, was the only one who knew everything, in addition to working with Longbottom directly. Tracey continued to man the library sessions with Hermione. Daphne, as of today, worked with Ernie in Charms, as well as keeping her ears open in Slytherin. Blaise passed the pertinent bits forward to Harriet, who had fully assumed the leadership role.

The older Slytherins, especially those with their own intelligence networks, watched the rise of the Girl-Who-Lived with interest, and more than a little respect. In six weeks, a first year had built an information ring that included all four houses. And, simultaneously, had toppled the Malfoy heir as year leader, although Draco seemed to be the last one to know that fact. And she had done it all with pure, Slytherin tactics. Not only was she not using her fame, she seemed to actively ignore it. And that fact just impressed them more.

**00000**

Harriet Potter had never really liked Halloween. At the festive feast, she sat at the corner of the Slytherin table farthest away from the teachers, glumly picking at her food. Secretly, she wanted something to happen to cut the whole thing short.

She got her wish. Long before dessert made its appearance, Professor Quirrell burst through the doors of the Great Hall, panting.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeons!" The entire hall went deathly quiet. "Just thought everyone should know." After the second, much quieter statement, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher passed out, right in the middle of the hall. For all intents and purposes, it seemed as though his consciousness was singlehandedly keeping pandemonium at bay, as chaos erupted the moment he collapsed. Dumbledore stood, and issued a clap of thunder from his wand. Harriet found herself wanting to learn that spell.

"Prefects, please lead your Houses to their Common rooms, the feast shall resume there. Professors, convene in the Entrance Hall." As the students stood and made to follow their various Prefects, Harriet found herself confused. She grabbed Blaise's sleeve, pulling him to the back of the Slytherin throng.

"Wait, if there is a Troll in the dungeons, why, exactly, are we being sent to the dungeons?" Blaise found her reasoning to be valid, but had no argument or counter argument.

"A good point. Unfortunately, it seems our only choice is to follow the Headmaster's commands."

Harriet frowned, but followed the rest of her House. As the approached the dungeons, she saw little that would indicate a troll had ever been there. As their trek through the dungeons to the Slytherin common room continued, the less evidence she saw. Her frown deepened, but she just filed the information for later.

'Something odd is going on here. My scar hurts whenever I look at the back of Professor Quirrell's head, and now there is a strange Troll, somehow in the school. I need to get to the bottom of this. But to do that, I need better information.' A plan formed, and Harriet's face broke into a small smile. As they entered the Common Room, Harriet grabbed Blaise's arm, and whispered into his ear. The dark boy nodded, and continued to walk to his dorm, a similar smile on his face.

**00000**

**00000**

**AN:** So yeah, this is my crack at Slytherin!Harry. Of course, it's my first run at Fem!Harry as well, but that second bit won't be too important until later books. Anyway, why make Harriet this way? I know that, had I been thrust into the circumstances she had, I would have fought tooth and nail. And if open war didn't work, then subversion would be in order. Canon Harry had a good head on his shoulders. I just shifted Harriet down a couple notches down the sliding scale of idealism and cynicism.

In other news, as some who may have check my quite barren profile may have noticed, this is my first foray into the public arena with my writing. Reviews and critiques of all kinds and flavors are appreciated.

~ExaltedChaos


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Oh…geez…honestly, I was not expecting such an overwhelming positive reaction. Nor the like 15% views/follows ratio. I've had to re-route my inbox so that FFN drops directly into a subfolder now. My original plan was to try to update this once a week. And, going forward, I think I'll try to stick to that. However, and this says a lot about me, it may or may not be my 21st birthday, and I'm feeling both rather charitable and have nothing else to be doing, so I polished up Chapter 2. Enjoy(?).

PS- I still own nothing, except perhaps this exact plot, using these exact borrowed characters, and I have no intent to profit from this.

**00000**

**00000**

On the first of December, Severus Snape was teaching his NEWT potions class. Due to his stringent entry requirements, it was quite the quiet class. He could hear every whisper. As such, he was currently puzzled. Why were two sixth years, a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, talking about the Potter girl?

Snape had difficulty keeping his expression under control as they continued. 'The girl has been here for three months. And she has a sixth year Ravenclaw calling her 'Miss Potter'? What is going on?'

On the other side of the room, a Gryffindor narrowed her eyes.

Meanwhile, four first year Slytherins were spending their free period in an abandoned classroom on the fifth floor. Blaise checked his watch.

"Alright, 'Miss Potter', Michaels and Freeman should be talking too loudly in Professor Snape's class about now". Tracey looked up from where she was writing her Transfiguration essay.

"What's the deal with that, anyway? Why go so far out your way to mislead Professor Snape like this?" Harriet grinned.

"Professor Snape is just amusing collateral damage. The real goal is Victoria Fallston, a Gryff in that class. She reports to Spencer Collins." Daphne furrowed her brow.

"Harri… what are you planning?"

"When Collins graduates in June, we'll have his job. After all, we're already gathering the information, why not sell it?" She pulled a stack of letters from her bag. "And I've been talking to the goblins. I have the capital to take over his other wares, as well. And while I'm sure quite a few members of our house of purebloods have a lot more Galleons than me, I'm in the rather unique situation where I don't have parents watching my vault balance." Harriet's smile turned bitter for a moment before disappearing completely. The other three all saw it, and none of them said anything. They knew some of Harriet's story, and, in their eyes, had earned the right to mourn for her parents.

That, and Pansy Parkinson's hair had mysteriously turned pink for a week after she had made a comment about Harriet's parents. After that, especially after Harriet mentioned it could have easily been permanent, the subject of Harriet Potter's parents became very taboo. Harriet turned toward her best friend.

"Blaise, you think you could handle the bookkeeping?" The dark skinned boy just smirked.

"Shouldn't be too difficult."

"Good. One more step towards the goal." The statement was met with three faces that showed various amounts of confusion. Harriet signed theatrically.

"Really, guys? You can't come up with an end game after everything we've accomplished? You already know I'm going to take over Slytherin. Why would I stop there? This school is going to be my bitch, whether it wants to or not. It's our first year, and weird things are going on already. And I'm not just talking about the third floor corridor, although I have a strange feeling all this strangeness is connected somehow. Blaise?"

"Right. Some of our housemates are talking a little too loudly about buildup within the Death Eaters." Tracey looked shocked, but Daphne just dropped her gaze, staring down at her desk.

"Over the summer I heard my father talking to some of his friends after he thought everyone else was asleep. He said…the Dark Lord was returning…" Again, Tracey was the only one shocked. Harriet just nodded.

"Right. Add in the fact that my scar has been giving me fits around Quirrell for some reason. And then remember that, if the Dark Lord does come back, who is going to be first on his hit list?" She saw comprehension dawn in the eyes of her friends. "Yeah. Me. I supposedly beat him last time, right? I'm very sure that, should the Dark Lord return like his followers believe he will, he'll come after me first. Now, since I was, in fact, fifteen months old the first time we met, I have no idea how I became the Girl-Who-Lived, much less beat him in the process. I'm also not some silly Gryff that thinks charging in head first is a wonderful plan.

"But I digress. I never really got the chance to be a kid. And it doesn't seem like that's going to change just because I got to Hogwarts. So, as of right now, the best plan I have is to amass power and information. I'm eleven. My magical core isn't anywhere near stable. I can only do so much about actual magical power. But information and political power, on the other hand, that I can start on immediately.

"Blaise, Daphne, Tracey…I've never really had friends before. And, despite general Slytherin philosophy, I count you guys as real friends. But being my friend isn't going to be very easy. It's entirely possible that, within the next couple years, the Dark Lord himself is going to be after me. If you want out, this is going to be your last real shot." Harriet looked into the eyes of her friends in turn, and only saw determination. Blaise smirked.

"Harriet, as adorable as the sentiment is, we're already in too deep to get out now. We're known consorts with the Girl-Who-Would-Rather-Eat-Crabbe-and-Goyle's- Sock-Collection-than-Join-the-Dark-Lord. We're in this together. Besides, who else is going to manage your money?" He gestured at Daphne. "Or teach you how to act like the heiress of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter?" A nod towards Tracey. "Or spend countless hours in the library making sure you don't fall behind in your magical knowledge?" arrHarriet dropped her head, staring down at her desk;H Harriet dropped her head, staring down at her desk. From where she was sitting, Daphne thought she could see unshed tears in the small girl's eye.

Then the bell rang, breaking the four out of their reverie. Harriet quickly wiped at her eyes, then grinned.

"Morgana's breath, I've never been more relieved at a school bell. Helga Hufflepuff would have been proud about that conversation. I feel like I should go insult a Muggleborn or something to feel like a Slytherin again." The other three broke into matching grins as they packed their things.

"Eh, you're a half-blood yourself, so that doesn't work very well. We're in History of Magic next, just come up with some convoluted plan that you won't benefit from for six months. You're good at that."

Harriet's only response was to roll her eyes at the other half-blood in the room.

**00000**

Daphne and Tracey sat on their beds in the Slytherin dorms after the first day of class following the winter hols. Normally, they would have been elsewhere, but Pansy and Millicent were elsewhere at the moment, leaving the room peaceful. They looked up from their essays as the door opened, but went back to work when they saw a smiling Harriet. Harriet glanced around the room.

"Good, Pansy and her over large shadow are gone. Quick, come over here. I have to show you guys something I got for Christmas." Daphne and Tracey shared a confused look, but followed the dark haired girl over to her bed against the far wall. The first thing they noticed was that her trunk was new, her old normal-looking one replaced by what seemed to be one made from ebony, bound in wrought iron with two different formidable looking locks. Harriet whispered something sibilant into the lock on the right, then pulled the right half of the lid open. Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"Where did you get that?" Harriet just smirked.

"Oh, the trunk was a Christmas gift from me, to me. I had to get Hagrid to go pick it up for me. Two separate enlarged compartments, each large enough to fit this room in. The locks are very close to spell-proof, too. The left works as a Muggle pad lock, I'll give you guys the code later. The right can only be opened by a password, set by me. I'll have to ask Professor Snape, or perhaps Professor Dumbledore, but I'm likely the only person in Britain that can speak this particular password." Daphne raised her other eyebrow, but Harriet waved her off. "I'll explain later, after I know for sure. More to the point, the trunk isn't the surprise." She pulled a bundle of starry cloth from the trunk. The other two girls gasped as she wrapped it around herself. Harriet had completely disappeared. Tracey found her voice first.

"Um…Harri? Who gave you an invisibility cloak?" Harriet shifted the cloak so her grinning head was visible.

"Dumbledore, actually. He said it used to belong to my father, he and his friends used it when they were in school. He says he saw Hagrid carrying in my new trunk, and gave this to me since he knew I could take care of it." She pulled the cloak off and folded it before putting it back in the open trunk compartment. "I already found Blaise and told him. Not so much the trunk details, but that's just because he can't get in here." Closing the trunk lid, she tapped the lock with her wand to seal it shut. Harriet turned to the two slightly stunned girls, a face-splitting grin on her face. "Ladies, we have now gotten much more dangerous." She quickly got more serious. "Naturally, this information goes basically nowhere. Blaise suggested making it a Class 2 secret, and I agree with him. Any questions before Parkinson shows up?" Daphne shook her head, but Tracey looked pensive.

"Is our favorite 'Claw cleared at Class 2?" Harriet shook her head.

"She got Class 1 clearance before winter hols, but she's not Class 2 yet. Also, while I'm thinking about it, everything about my trunk is Class 3." Daphne shot her a questioning look. Harriet smirked.

"Yeah, I made Class 3 just now. At Class 3, you tell no one. In this case, not even Blaise. Understand?" Harriet stared into their eyes, her emerald orbs glinting of steel. She got two sharp nods in return.

"Excellent. Now, Tracey, could I get you to check my Potions essay? I think I got everything I need, but turned out shorter than I thought it would…" The girl in question rolled her eyes and just held her hand out, waiting for the parchment. Daphne sighed, and returned to her bed to continue the work she had been doing before Harriet had come in with her revelations.

'Its times like this I'm so surprised. One minute, she's plotting to take over Hogwarts by fifth year. The next she's just a normal first year, just trying to get good grades. Two completely different sides, but both of them completely Harri…'

**00000**

The following evening, Harriet sat in a remote corner of the Slytherin common room, with exactly one other chair nearby. She did not look surprised at all when one Spencer Collins silently took the chair.

"Potter."

"Collins."

"What, exactly, is your game, Potter?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean, Collins. Could you possibly elaborate?" The seventh year boy scowled at the girl next to him.

"You have been at this school for a total of four months. Why, exactly, does it seem you are one of the best informed people in this school?"

"Information is power, Collins. As well informed as you make yourself out to be, I'm sure you could extrapolate to a reason or two I would appreciate power."

"I could. However, I hesitate to deal in guesswork."

"I suppose the Shadow King of Slytherin would appreciate absolutes." The older boy's head whipped toward Harriet so quickly the first year heard his neck crack.

"What, exactly, are you implying, Firstie?"

"Nothing you didn't just confirm for me, Collins. Marcus Flint is a moron. It only makes sense that someone else, who presumably owns his loyalty, or at least has sufficient blackmail on him, put him up into his place as King of Slytherin to distract others from themselves. You are the information broker of Slytherin. You know a great deal about a great many things. Few others are in a position to control someone like Flint." Spencer Collins did not enjoy the feeling of being had. Much less by a first year girl. However, that girl cut him off before he could open his mouth fully.

"Collins, you asked me what my game was. Now that I've given you a hint about exactly how well informed I am, I will tell you. It's rather simple, really. You graduate in June. As such, come September next year, Slytherin will need a new information broker. I think Blaise Zabini would be excellent in that position. In addition, you control the Slytherin 'black market', to use the common parlance. Both of these pursuits could be superb money making ventures, going by your numbers from first term.

"And, as an added bonus, I now know you control the King of Slytherin, who is still a sixth year. Having the King under my thumb would be a fantastic way to make Malfoy shut his mouth, Merlin knows he needs to. You know he still won't accept me as year leader? It's quite sad, really." The seventh year continued to stare at the slight girl as though he was judging her worth. Harriet just continued to read the Charms textbook in her lap.

"There is one more thing, Collins, I feel you should know. As of lunchtime today, you are no longer in any position to stop my plans. You see, I took the liberty of getting a hold of your notebook. In my trunk downstairs, I have an exact copy. By this time next week, I'm fairly sure I will have broken your ciphers, considering I have already puzzled out most of the primary by myself. Your secrets are now mine. Your contacts are now mine. Your codes, your information, your inventory, all mine." Harriet closed her textbook and stood, brushing out her skirt. She looked at the shocked and angry seventh year for the first time of their meeting. "You lose, Spencer Collins. I'm not going to destroy you, though I could. I will let you graduate with your power. However, your cooperation with Blaise inheriting your main roles come next year would be much appreciated." With a smirk, Harriet calmly walked across the room and down to her dorm, leaving the seventh year to stew.

Ten minutes later, Daphne entered the first year girl's dorm to find Harriet Potter laughing hysterically to herself. After four months of knowing the girl, Daphne was wary. She knew her friend well enough to know that she had just pull something off, and Merlin knows it wouldn't be good news for most people.

"Um…Harri? What did you do?" Harriet wiped tears of joy from her eyes, then looked around the room to make sure that Daphne and she were alone.

"Daph, I just made Spencer Collins my bitch, and I lied through my teeth to do it. And he has no idea. Within the next week or so, he should just give Blaise everything. In addition to having full information and black market control next year, I'll also have Marcus Flint in my pocket. Merlin, that worked way better than I thought. I've been overestimating him all year. Not only did he buy all of our bait, but he came to me to get destroyed. I could have made our plans so much easier if I had known he was an idiot." She collapsed in another fit of giggles. "Remind me to warn Blaise later so he isn't caught off guard when Collins gives him everything."

Daphne just started at the raven haired girl, blinking. Before the winter hols, Tracey had, mostly in jest, said that Harriet's best Slytherin quality was her ability to make long term plans and silently manipulate people to accomplish them. However, apparently, the Girl-Who-Lived not only had a tongue that could speak to snakes, as she had told her friends that morning, but could also lie and fast talk the best informed man in Slytherin. Daphne nodded to the other girl, and left to go back to the common room. Amongst all the thoughts that floated through her head one in particular stuck out.

'I'm very, very glad Harriet Potter is my friend. I think it's safer to be on her side than her enemy, even with the possible return of the Dark Lord…'

**00000**

As Harriet had predicted, just over a week later, Collins took Blaise under his wing, introducing him to his contacts as his successor. In early February, four first year Slytherins congregated in an abandoned classroom during a free period. Blaise cleared his throat.

"Alright. Between our intelligence and what I've gleaned from Collins's, I think I've figured out what's going on down the third floor corridor. The good news is that Granger has provided some interesting stuff. The bad news is that the Weasley twins are far and away our best source." Tracey and Daphne rolled their eyes, but Harriet nodded, not unhappy. Blaise looked at her askew.

"I've met with the twins a few times. Worked with them a couple as well. You know they're the ones that turned Pansy's hair pink that one time?" Even Blaise shook his head. He had guessed, but had no evidence. "Anyway, I have no idea why those two are in Gryffindor. If they weren't known blood-traitors, Malfoy's words, not mine, they would be excellent Slytherins. Sure, they pull pranks instead of play politics, but they're certainly cunning. Anyway, Blaise, continue." The African boy nodded.

"Right. So, behind one of the doors on the third floor, my intelligence places an actual Philosopher's Stone, guarded by, at the very least, a Cerberus." Tracey and Daphne drew sharp breaths, but Harriet furrowed her brow, scowling. Tracey spoke up.

"Harri, do you know what a Philosopher's Stone can do?" The dark haired girl shook her head. "It's the world's greatest feat of alchemy. Turns normal metals into precious metals. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which, if you had continuous access to it, would give you eternal life." Blaise pulled out a small notebook, flipping through it.

"On the subject of eternal life, actually, there are also two known instances of dead unicorns in the forbidden forest. Fresh unicorn blood can have a similar, if much less potent, effect as the Elixir." Harriet looked at the only male in the room.

"Any suspects on the unicorn killings?" Blaise shook his head.

"Some of the first year Gryffs had a detention a few days ago, out in the forest with agHaHHagrid to investigate the unicorn killings. According to Longbottom, all three came back traumatized and suffering from amnesia." Harriet started chewing on her bottom lip, a face they all recognized as the hatching of a plan.

"I've been meaning to go down to Hagrid's since Christmas, actually. He likes me well enough to give me a Christmas present, at least. With the Cloak, I can head down there after curfew tonight. See if I can't get some answers, at least about the unicorn attacks." Blaise could tell something didn't sit well with her at all if Harriet was just going to break curfew like this, Cloak or not. But he held is tongue, Harriet would explain what needed to be explained when it was needed. As Harriet continued to chew her lip, staring down at her desk, her friends just stayed quiet. They could practically see the gears working in her head. Eventually, Harriet pulled a blank sheet of parchment and a quill from her bag and began to write, her lip never leaving her mouth.

Nearly a half hour and three sheets of parchment later, Harriet spoke again.

"Alright. Tonight, I'll go speak with Hagrid. When I come back, Tracey, I'll leave one of these sheets in your trunk, assuming I don't get caught. Tomorrow morning, read the letter, then take that information to Snape. Probably after breakfast, when he's in his office." The girl in question shot Harriet a confused look.

"Wait, why Professor Snape, and why me?" Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Because I have no intention of charging forward into a Cerberus and Merlin knows what else like some Gryffindor. We're telling Snape because, as our Head of House, he's the most likely to take the information from a group of Slytherins seriously. And you're the one telling him because he likes you, and I'm pretty sure he tries his best to hate me. I'm fairly certain that he and my father weren't friends, and he's taking it out on me. Or at least he would, if he wasn't secretly proud of how well I'm thriving in his house, despite my two Gryffindor parents. But keep that under your hat, it's almost entirely guesswork.

"Anyway. We meet in our spot on the ground floor tomorrow after classes. Until then, Tracey, you don't say a word about what Snape had to say until then. Depending on my findings tonight and Snape's insights tomorrow morning, what we know about what's going on in the third floor could be very, very, dangerous. This meeting, this plan, and this information is now Class 3, understand?" She was answered by three serious nods. "Actually, Tracey, the note you'll need in the morning will be in the left side of my trunk, not in yours. Just in case."

**00000**

The following evening, the four slipped out of an empty classroom on the ground floor, and set off toward the dungeons in pairs, Harriet and Blaise first, with Daphne and Tracey following several minutes behind. Harriet chewed her lip as she walked, digesting what she knew.

'Ok, so Snape believes us. Not only that, but he had evidence that Quirrell is actively trying to steal the stone. However, for a number of admittedly dubious reasons, Snape can't do anything directly. The rest of the staff has too much blind faith in Dumbledore to do anything. So which of the ickle Gryffs, I wonder, will end up doing the dirty work? I'll need to make sure Neville keeps his fingers in the wind, and, potentially, forewarn him so he doesn't charge forward like the Gryff he is.

'But, more importantly, there is a lot more going on down there than just "Fluffy". Seems like most of the staff put up a trial. Hagrid's is just the first one. What we need first is...' Harriet stopped dead as her mind finally caught up to what Snape had really given them.

As suddenly as she had stopped, Harriet was moving again, now pulling Blaise down a seldom used side path. The dark skinned boy very nearly flinched when she turned to face him, taken aback at the sheer intensity of her gaze.

"Blaise, you realize Snape just basically told us to steal the Stone ourselves before our Defense professor can, right?" The resounding silence that issued from the boy served to answer for him, in the negative. He thought that the gleam in Harriet's eye was very nearly manic.

"Blaise, Quirrell has the advantage here. He's more likely to know about all of the traps down there. All we have on him right now is that we know the secret to get passed the first obstacle. You have the most important job, closing the information gap. We need to know what all is down that corridor. And make sure you don't clue Collins into what we're after, either. Don't rush it, we can't afford a leak. Just make sure your fingers are in the wind." Blaise nodded slowly, still not liking this plan.

"Harri…even with proper information, don't you think charging after the Stone ourselves is too Gryffindor-ish for us?" Harriet's manic grin softened as she turned, staring blankly at the stone wall.

"Did I ever tell you the Hat wanted me in Gryffindor? Granted, it considered Ravenclaw too, briefly, but the Hat really wanted me in Gryffindor. That's why my sorting took ages, I had to argue with the bloody hat until I made it into Slytherin. And trust me, I would much rather manipulate other people into bringing the Stone back for me, but we're only Firsties, after all. I don't have that kind of sway, yet. Not to mention, the Philosopher's Stone isn't something to be trifled with. I need people I can actually trust going after it, not people I'm using to do my dirty work. And, as you know, the list of people I trust starts and ends with the people that met in that classroom a few minutes ago.

"So yes, this is a rather Gryffindor-ish scheme. But, given the circumstances, it's all we've got. We're just going to have to suck it up and embrace our inner Gryffindors, just this once." Blaise sighed theatrically.

"Fine…I'll consent to being a brainless Lion this one time. Unfortunately for us all, I can't find a decent whole in your logic."

"Blaise, do stop being a martyr. It's rather unseemly. Head on back to the Common Room and get an ear to the ground. I'm headed up to the library, seeing as I'm all full of nervous energy now and I need to calm down before I head back to the Snake Pit." Blaise rolled his eyes, and wandered back into the labyrinthine dungeon corridors.

**00000**

One afternoon in late April the Gryffindor and Slytherin first years were having their final flying lesson. By now, of course, those that had any interest in flight on brooms as a concept had more or less mastered it, as well as one could on the ancient Cleansweeps the school provided for the course.

Blaise scanned the pitch, finding Harriet in her usual spot at the far end. Despite her seemly infinite natural talent on a broom, and Blaise knew she did love to fly, Harriet spent her lessons sitting still, sideways on her broom and leaning back against the front of the stands. As he approached, the raven haired girl acknowledged him with a nod, letting him speak.

"You know, Harri, this is your last real chance to talk to Weasley." Emerald eyes rolled in their sockets.

"I still don't see the need to talk to him. He was quite rude to me on the train, and he's spent the year vacillating between continued hero worship and deep, prejudiced hatred of me, just because I was sorted into Slytherin." Blaise quickly looked around, then lowered his voice.

"We also know that we have to play chess to get to the Stone, and Weasley hasn't lost a game all year, according to Longbottom. He's been spending his free time for the last couple weeks playing Ravenclaw upperclassmen." At the last statement, Harriet raised an eyebrow.

"Has he? And still has yet to drop a game? I think I should play him, could be fun. Bribery or blackmail, do you think?" Blaise shot her a long-suffering look.

"I doubt either will be necessary. That said, either would work, but bribery would likely be a better plan for the long term. Not monetary, though. Just, like, offer to sign his Chocolate Frog Card of you or something." Harriet scanned the pitch, quickly finding the Weasley by virtue of his hair color. Not bothering to sit on her broom properly, Harriet shot off towards the small group tossing a Quaffle around, subconsciously pulling every tiny bit of speed she could out of the ancient broom.

"Weasley! Could you spare a girl a moment?" Ron Weasley's head spun around, excited as he didn't recognize the voice at first. When he saw Harriet Potter, sidesaddle on her broom and waving, he looked rather conflicted. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"I won't bite, Weasley. I just have a question for you. I was simply wondering if you would like to play a game of chess. I hear you are quite good, and I haven't had a decent opponent in quite some time." Ron appeared taken quite off guard, but still wary. Harriet repressed the urge to roll her eyes again. "I'll sign your Chocolate Frog Card of me if you win." Ron opened his mouth to say something, but found himself cut off.

"After breakfast, I'll have a board set up in classroom 12, not far from the Entrance Hall. See you then." With a jaunty wave, the dark-haired girl flew away from the group of Gryffindors and back to Blaise. At her arrival, he didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, that fourth year, Miller, got that really nice chess set for Christmas, right? I'm going to need to borrow it tomorrow."

"Titus Miller also doesn't particularly like you." Harriet raised a rather incredulous eyebrow.

"There are very few people who don't fit that description in this school, Blaise. I'm not here to make friends, although that did seem to happen anyway. Regardless, we can still make him do things, especially with all of Collins's notes. I'm sure we have dirt on him somewhere. Look him up, if we don't have anything you can exploit, I'll handle him tonight. No one can actually resist a Potter with their mind made up." In an effortless display of flying prowess, Harriet fell ten feet and let her broom spin underneath her, coming to an easy stop in her usual place, leaning back against the stands. Blaise, not incredibly confidant on a broom, eased his way down.

"On a different note, can I assume you'll be trying out for Quidditch next year, Harri?"

"Obviously. Flying is amazing. I seem to be abnormally good at it, as well."

"You might have a little bit of talent. What do you think, Chaser?" Harriet shook her head.

"See, it's hard, because the Slytherin Team isn't going to have any real spots open next year. But no, not Chaser. The Quaffle seems awfully large for my tiny, girlish hands. The Snitch though…yeah, I'm thinking Seeker. That, and Malfoy has made it no secret he wants the Seeker spot. Getting it over him would be fantastic."

A Muggle saying floated through Harriet's mind at that moment. 'Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.' The Devil in this case, was a triumvirate, composed of Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

"Well, well, Potter, what is this about you wanting to be Seeker? It's never going to happen. I could out fly you any day of the week. In fact, take away all of your silly showboating and you can barely fly at all, much less find a Snitch." Harriet spent her time scanning the pitch, not really interested in Malfoy's insults at this particular juncture. Then, as Draco opened his mouth again to continue, Harriet saw something glint in the air, beneath the group of Gryffindors. Quickly adding two and two in her head to get Malfoy shutting up, she shot off towards the small gleam in the air, flattening her body against the broom, and squeezing every last bit of acceleration and speed she could out of the bullocksed up school broom. Malfoy, thinking she was just running away, followed as best he could, with Crabbe, Goyle, and Blaise following behind at a more sedate pace, wondering what was going on.

As Harriet neared her goal, she veered downwards into a near vertical dive. Mere centimeters from the ground, everyone that was watching, which included over 90% of the students and an irate Madam Hooch, saw the slight girl snap her hand out, grab something they couldn't readily see, and pull out of the dive, the nose of her broom barely brushing the grass. Harriet, task complete, applied the breaking charms and swung her leg back over the broom into her customary sidesaddle. Sedately, she flew back up to the Gryffindors with the Quaffle above her.

"Oi! Finnegan! Catch!" With a flick of her thumb, a silver coin arced over to the confused Gryffindor. "I saw it fall out of your pocket. You might want to dump your pocket change before going flying, Sickles don't grow on trees." The entire pitch went quiet, trying to process what had just happened. Harriet just smiled, trying not to bite her lip. 'Ok, that isn't entirely true. By the time I saw it, that Sickle was already midair. As I flew over, I tried to extrapolate to who's it was, and Finnegan was my best guess. I just hope I'm right.'

Seamus Finnegan looked at the Sickle in his hand, smiled, and stuck it back in his pocket. Harriet tried not to smile too widely.

"You're alright, Potter. I'm pretty sure no other Slytherins would risk their necks for my pocket change. Just…please tell me you don't want to play Quidditch. Gryffindor hasn't won the Cup in years, and we won't for the next six if Slytherin has a Seeker like you." Between the compliment and Draco's look of amazement mixed with rage at what he had just seen, Harriet had to compress her smirk, not fake it.

"Unfortunately for you, Finnegan, I am, in fact, going to be at Quidditch try-outs come September. I mean, I hear Malfoy wants to be the Seeker, and I have far too much House pride to let a fate like that befall my Quidditch team." Both Harriet and the assembled Gryffindors within earshot burst into laughter. Draco almost seemed to glow in his rage, which caused Blaise's smirk to expand into a full grin. Seeing that his friend had a handle on the situation, he quietly left to seek out Daphne. After all, it was only right that Slytherin House heard the actual story, not whatever bollocks Malfoy would be spreading later.

Malfoy had taken all he could. When he had heard Potter talking to Zabini about wanting to be Seeker, he thought he had seen a perfect opportunity to knock the girl down a peg, remind her who the year leader actually was. Then, of course, it all went to hell. The Irish half-blood boy had been flying around half way across the pitch. And somehow, Potter had seen a Sickle fall from his pocket. Not only that, but actually managed to catch the damn thing. He had only seen the thing moments before she had caught it. And then, somehow, Potter and the Gryffindors had turned the conversation around to insulting him. Draco opened his mouth to start a tirade that he was sure would have been devastating to Potter's ego, but Madam Hooch chose that moment to speak.

"Miss Potter!" Harriet's smile fell slightly. "Not only do you continue to refuse to sit on your broom correctly, but that was one of the most foolhardy stunts I have ever seen pulled by a first year." Harriet's smile fell further. "Make no mistake, I will be speaking to Severus about this." Harriet's smile, and good humor, and desire to live, collapsed completely. "I will make sure that your Head of House knows that one of his first years is the single most promising Seeker candidate to attend Hogwarts in my tenure here as a teacher." Harriet, confused slightly by the sudden change, took a moment to process what Madam Hooch had just said. When she did, her smile returned in full force. She took a moment to bat her eyelashes at a horrified looking Draco Malfoy. "Now, young lady, sit on your broom properly before you fall and hurt yourself." Harriet did as she was told, and caught Malfoy's gaze. 'I win, Malfoy.' Tempting as it was to actually mouth it to him, she settled for a wink and a smirk, before waving to the now friendly Gryffindors and flying off to find her friends on the ground.

Ten minutes later, Draco Malfoy was still sputtering at the sheer injustice of it all.

**00000**

**00000**

**AN:** Hmm…a rather more in depth peek into the twisted, scheming mind of Harriet Potter. There are certain Nails lost from certain Horseshoes that helped to shaped her to be this way, and shall be revealed in time.

Again, I welcome any and all feedback. Especially of note, I've tried my best to keep to original flavor and use the Queen's English/metric units, however, I was born and raised in the American South, and I make no promises it is perfect. Please, don't hesitate to tell me that I dun goof'd.

~ExaltedChaos


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Still don't own anything. I'm really broken up about it.

**00000**

**00000**

The following evening, Harriet calmly slipped into her usual place at the Slytherin table half way through dinner. Blaise merely nodded in greeting, but Tracey and Daphne quietly exploded into questions.

"Harriet Potter, where have you been all day? You disappeared after breakfast, and now you just show up half way through dinner?"

"Seriously, Harriet, where have you been?" Harriet sighed into her pumpkin juice.

"As you two should recall, after breakfast I met Ronald Weasley in classroom 12 for a game of chess." The two girls opposite her at the table gave her the identical bewildered stare.

"Merlin, how much chess did you play?"

"We played a single game, Tracey. Admittedly, I underestimated Weasley at the start. If I hadn't been playing as cautiously as I was, he may have actually beaten me. As it was, it took me until nearly an hour ago to finally get in his head far enough to get him to fall for one of my traps. Still, best damn game I've ever played." Silence reigned over the table as Harriet chewed thoughtfully. "Regardless, I have the war games handled for when we have to go do that thing in the place. Blaise, how's the rest shaping up?" The dark skinned boy produced a small notebook from his robes. Harriet was sure her school robes didn't have an interior pocket there.

"The war games were the last real issue, really. We should be able to handle needle in the haystack and the shell game, and both the gardening and stage one are non-events. If we're still confident that the Halloween surprise was supposed to be guest number two," he cut his eyes to Harriet, who nodded, "Then by all accounts we're set. You could almost do it yourself, actually." The Girl-Who-Lived snorted into her pumpkin juice.

"Yeah, right. I'll just charge forward like a half-wit Gryffindor. Sounds perfectly reasonable. No, Blaise. We're Slytherins. That means we have a plan, form a group, and go carefully. I don't want to spread this around to anyone who doesn't already know. The four of us, Friday night. Objections from the squad?" Daphne and Tracey shook their heads. "Good. Blaise, you'll be on alibi detail. We meet in the fourth location an hour after dinner. Until then, not a word about any of this." Blaise eyed his best friend thoughtfully.

'She's charismatic, calculating, and brilliant. She habitually speaks in code any time she might be overheard. What the hell kind of Muggles raised her that she would develop these kind of skills?'

Meanwhile, in Surrey, Vernon Dursley sneezed.

**00000**

Friday night, it seemed at first that everything was going according to plan. Daphne could play the pipes Hagrid had given to Harriet on Christmas. The Devil's Snare ignored anything that stayed completely still. Harriet, using a stolen and pre-shrunken school broom, easily caught the flying key. Over the course of an hour and a half, Harriet was able to play their way across the chess board, with the three of them being substitute pieces. It took three minutes for Tracey and Harriet to work through the potions puzzle.

Then things started to go pear shaped.

"It has to be this one, Harri. But there's only enough for one person." Daphne, from her place watching the door they had come through, shot a worried glance at her two friends. Harriet chewed on her lip for a moment, then reached into the small satchel she carried.

"Alright then. I'll drink it, and head through the fire. You two stay here, under the Invisibility Cloak. Daph, any sign of someone following?" The blonde shook her head. "Alright, let's just hope our luck holds. Here, you two get under the Cloak. Hide in the corner over there." Handing the starry cloth to Tracey, Harriet turned and grabbed the bottle they had decided on. As her two friends disappeared, she gestured with the potion. "Wish me luck. Bottoms up!" Draining the bottle, Harriet stood still for a five count. "Ok, pretty sure I didn't just swallow poison. Off I go." Running through the fire and not feeling the heat, Harriet thought the trials of the night were over. As such, when all she found in the final room was a large, ornate mirror on a dais, she was confused. As she looked into the mirror, the confusion grew, then twisted itself into longing and a deep sadness. There in the reflection that Harriet couldn't help but stare at, she saw herself standing with her parents.

Harriet barely felt her knees hitting the stone floor. There, in this mirror, was everything she had ever wanted. Her, in her Slytherin robes, surrounded by her Gryffindor parents, and they were proud of her. She could see it in their faces. They loved her, not for who she should be, or for who they wanted her to be, just for who she was. Tears welled up in her eyes, and so focused was she about her parents, Harriet almost missed the fact that the reflection of her father slipped something into her pocket. She watched as her parents took turns hugging her close and kissing the top of her head, showing her the affection she had never received, and the dam broke.

In the previous room, over the sounds of the fire in the joining hallway, Tracey and Daphne heard their friend's sobs. The two girls under the Invisibility Cloak looked at each other, worried. The Harri they knew was strong. The Harri they knew certainly didn't cry like that. The gut wrenching sound continued for what seemed like an eternity, before it started to get closer. Hastily throwing off the cloak, Tracey and Daphne turned to see Harriet run into the room, tears still running down her face.

Seeing her friends, Harriet all but threw herself into their arms.

"There…there was a mirror…my…my parents…I could see my parents…they looked so proud of me…" The raven haired girl sobbed loudly, and collapsed into the arms of her friends. Looking over the crying girl's head, Daphne's steel gray eyes met Tracey's deep blue. Both saw worry, tinted with confusion, reflected there. Harriet Potter never cried. Sure, they both knew that bringing up her dead parents was not something you did. But, she's the Girl-Who-Lived for Merlin's sake. Who could have raised her that just seeing her parents in an enchanted mirror would do this to her?

Tracey opened her mouth to ask a question, but a look from Daphne silenced the words on her tongue. The brunette nodded, closing her mouth. Now wasn't the time. They were still, in fact, huddled in a corner of a room deep in a forbidden corridor, who knows how long after curfew. They needed to get back to the dungeons, sooner rather than later.

Five minutes later, Harriet's crying stopped. Pulling away from her friends, she pulled her glasses from her face before wiping her eyes on her sleeve. After she replaced her glasses and took a deep, steadying breath, Harriet reached into her satchel and pulled an ordinary looking sheet of thick brown paper from it and laid it out on the stone floor. Then, she pulled a tear drop shaped amber stone from her pocket, and carefully placed it onto the paper. Tracey and Daphne both had to stifle a gasp. They knew why they were down here, but to actually see a Philosopher's Stone was something completely different. They watched carefully as Harriet knelt in front of the paper, placing her thumb on one corner, and the tip of her wand at the opposite. Then, bending over the paper and the Stone, Harriet _hissed_.

The reaction was immediate. The paper, enchanted Daphne and Tracey realized, glowed crimson for a moment, then wrapped itself around the Stone, its edges folding into themselves and disappearing. Picking up the wrapped Stone and placing it in her bag, Harriet looked at her friends, the barest hints of amusement visible on her still red and tear-stained face.

"Daph, Trace, you didn't think I would walk around with a naked Philosopher's Stone did you? I ordered that paper special from the same gentleman in Knockturn Alley that made the locks on my trunk. Got it delivered by owl once we decided to steal the Stone ourselves. Most bloody expensive piece of paper you'll ever see, I promise. Now, grab the Cloak, Daph, and let's get ourselves under it. We're not out of the woods yet."

**00000**

Blaise Zabini was losing three fights with his mind. The first was to not show any worry on his face. The second was to not check the clock across the common room obsessively. Half passed midnight. Shit. His three friends had been gone for over four hours down a corridor the Headmaster had warned was forbidden because of danger of a messy death. According to the plan, the three girls had until one in the morning before he went to Professor Snape.

Unfortunately, the third fight he was losing was the war against sleep. As he shook his head again, the wall opened. And Blaise Zabini had never been as glad to see Harriet Potter in his life. As per her own plan, the girl didn't acknowledge him at all, but covertly gripped the strap on the bag she wore as she walked directly toward the stairs to the girl's dormitories. They had succeeded.

Ten minutes later, the wall slip open again, and Tracey and Daphne entered as well, whispering to each other. Daphne acknowledged Blaise with a nod as they passed toward their beds as well, while Tracey rolled her neck. Blaise returned the blonde's nod with his own, his own weariness banishes from his mind. They were fine, physically. But something was wrong, either mentally or emotionally, according to Tracey. Blaise sighed into his Potions text. He wouldn't know anything until the morning. He shook the thoughts from his head. He now had the final job to do in this plan: fall asleep in the common room with a half-finished essay from either Transfiguration or History of Magic in his lap, as those were the two next major assignments due for the First year Slytherins. Blaise sighed again as he pulled out his History of Magic things, this time in wonderment.

Harriet Potter was truly the most meticulous mastermind he would ever know. After tonight, there wasn't a doubt in Blaise's mind that his best friend didn't use the loo without several back up plans. If there was ever a question of whether to support her, there couldn't be any longer.

**00000**

Over the following days and weeks, as per Harriet's request, Blaise kept in close contact with both his and Collin's various informants, waiting for the Headmaster to leave the castle. Harriet was sure that the next time he did, Professor Quirrell would make his move on the now missing Philosopher's Stone.

The first week of June, Blaise received word that Professor Dumbledore had indeed left the castle. Then, of course, nothing obvious happened. However, to those that knew her, Harriet began to walk on eggshells around their Defense Professor.

For the first year Slytherins, DADA was a double period right before dinner on Wednesdays. In her seat in the back corner of the room next to Blaise, she spent the entire class stiff as a broom, flinching occasionally whenever their stuttering teacher turned away from the class. Towards the end of class, Harriet carefully passed Blaise a note while Quirrell was answering a question for one of the Gryffindors they shared the class with.

'_Blaise, by Salazar do not react to this note. I fully expect Quirrell will hold me after class for one innocent reason or another. Once the room is clear, he'll confront me about the Stone. I have no delusions that, despite the stutter, I can best a teacher in single combat after ten months of knowing Magic is real. The moment you leave, do not go to the Great Hall. Send Daphne to Snape with the news that Quirrell is attacking me because of the Stone. Tracey should go to Flitwick's office on the fourth floor, he doesn't have a class right now. She shouldn't say anything about the Stone. You know where Dumbledore's office is, get him, and tell him anything he wants to know as long as you get him here._

_Don't look at Quirrell directly for the rest of class.'_

Blaise did not have to wait long. Within ten minutes, the bell rang to end class, and Harriet was indeed held back to "discuss her latest essay". As soon as the students began to stand and pack their things, Blaise moved to the front of his desk so that he could whisper to Daphne. He whispered to Tracey as they seemingly calmly left the classroom. Once the three students were out of sight of the classroom, they ran off in three different directions, ignoring the reactions of their classmates. This was far more important than keeping up social appearances.

Meanwhile Harriet was taking her time packing her school bag, and discreetly making sure that her wand was tucked up her sleeve. When the DADA Professor closed and locked the classroom door with a flick of his wand once they were alone, she forced herself to remain calm. The best possible help should be coming for her, she merely had to survive. And her years at the Dursley's forced her to be good at surviving.

"Please come to up here, Ms. Potter." Quirrell's voice was eerily smooth. Harriet mentally nodded. She had known the stutter was fake. She slowly, calmly, left her seat and walked to the teacher's desk, never looking directly at her Professor.

"Ms. Potter, I would appreciate it if you looked at me." Harriet focus on a point in the air above his right shoulder.

"Professor, what exactly about my most recent essay requires our private attention?" In her peripheral vision, she saw Quirrell's face distort into a sneer.

"Potter! You know exactly why you are here! I know you're smarter than this, drop the act!"

"What act, Professor? I'm honestly confused." Unless a low growl was an incantation, Quirrell wordlessly slashed his wand and launched three hexes at the slight girl. Harriet threw herself to the side as soon as his arm began to move, and used the motion to slide her wand into her grasp. She refocused her vision onto Quirrell's diaphragm, and rolled under a desk when she saw his arm move again. The curse blew the desk apart, showering Harriet with debris. She stood as quickly as she could, training her wand on the man trying to kill her. An instant later she had to dodge to the side, her own spell dying on her lips, as an unknown, cobalt curse shot towards her. Unfortunately, her dodge caused her to trip over the remnants of the desk, leaving her unable to dodge for a moment. Quirrell quickly took advantage, and with a quick gesture of his wand disarmed her and bound her in black ropes. The ropes prevented Harriet from getting her feet underneath her, and she crashed to the floor in the center of the room. Quirrell tossed Harriet's wand onto his desk, then moved to stand over her, a sneer on his face.

"Now, tell me, girl. What have you done with the Stone? I know you know of it." Harriet, refusing to meet his eyes, mentally cursed.

'Dammit! I'm good as dead. I needed to last another couple minutes. Harriet Potter, think. How do I stall him now? I can't lie to him, not directly. I need to tell the truth, slowly.'

"Haven't you figured it out? I solved the puzzle of the forbidden corridor. I stole the Stone before you could." The man in the turban growled, and viciously kicked her in the side. Harriet's eyes crossed as she fought to not scream from the pain. Quirrell kicked her again, and Harriet did scream as she felt ribs crack.

"Where is the Stone, Potter?" he growled at her as her scream subsided. Harriet stared up at his chest, trying to look defiant through her watering eyes.

"S…Safe. Locked away where you cannot reach it." She saw his face contort in his fury. Quirrell pointed his wand at her, but before a curse could leave it, Harriet heard another voice, one definitely not Quirrell's come from underneath the turban.

"Stop. Let me speak to her, Quirinus." The voice was quiet, but it sent shivers down Harriet's spine for reasons she couldn't adequately explain to herself. It was no consolation to her that it seemed to have the same effect on Quirrell.

"Master…are you sure?" Gone was the look of rage, replaced by nervousness tinted with fear.

"Yes, you useless fool. Let me look upon her." The voice was sibilant, and somehow terribly cruel. As Quirrell slowly removed his turban, Harriet racked her brain, trying to figure out why the voice was also somehow familiar. The turban removed, Quirrell turned and looked upwards, letting the face on the back of his head look down at the bound girl on the floor. Fear and curiosity overcoming what was left of her control, Harriet gulped as she saw the red eyes staring at her from the distorted face. Suddenly, unbidden, forgotten fragments of memories of looking up from a crib in an unknown home and hearing screams rose within her. Subconsciously, a whisper escaped her lips.

"Voldemort…" The inhuman face almost seemed to smile.

"Yes, child. I am Lord Voldemort. Ten years ago, you somehow reduced me to this pathetic existence. Now, you are hiding what can bring me truly to life again. And you will tell me where the Philosopher's Stone lies." Harriet, from the combination of pain, fear, and helplessness, began to sweat. Memories of her plan abandoned her, and she lost any inkling that help was coming. Terror restricted her throat, making her words painful.

"I…I moved the Stone because I knew someone was coming for it. I…I thought that someone was going to use it to make the Elixir…the same person that was killing the unicorns for their blood. Some of the older Slytherins have been talking about….about your possible return. You…you killed my parents. You tried to kill me. So I did what I could to stop your…return. I stole the Stone from the third floor corridor because that's where you knew it was…you knew of the protections there…and if I could get passed them, I knew you could. You…you just had to wait until Dumbledore left the castle…I didn't."

"Enough of your rambling, Potter! Tell me now where the Stone lies!" Harriet had no conscious inkling why she was stalling like this, except to forestall her own demise. And yet, that basic, deep seeded self-preservation, born from ten years living with her Aunt, Uncle, and Cousin and cultivated in ten months living and making waves in Slytherin, stopped her from immediately spilling her secrets on the spot.

"The Stone is locked up. Behind two different protections only I can open."

"Lies, Potter! You are an insignificant first year. Any supposed protections you could devise I could break in a moment."

"I am a Slytherin…there is a vast difference between what I can devise and what I can preform." The inhuman face contorted into a sneer of rage, and Quirrell turned around, the identical sneer on his actual face. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Harriet noted that Voldemort seemed to have completely taken over Quirrell's body. This idle thought was confirmed when the next proclamation was spoken simultaneously by both Quirrell and Voldemort.

"You will tell me where the Stone lies!" Quirrell's wand was suddenly oriented back onto her. _"Crucio!"_

There was no attempt to hide this pain. It was impossible. Thousands of white-hot knives dove into her flesh, stabbing and twisting. The force of the Unforgivable broke the ropes binding her, but Harriet could no more think about escape now than when she was four and her uncle had first thrown her into her cupboard in anger. Her back arched and her screams filled the classroom. Her eyes, unseeing, scanned her tormentor as a cruel smile split his face as she writhed on the floor. She screamed as she had never screamed before until all breath left her lungs, and then she continued to silently scream until the curse abated after what felt like several eternities, all strung together.

After the curse ended, Harriet continued to weakly flail on the cold, stone floor, gasping for a breath she couldn't seem to take. Her mind was empty, her past, present, future, and identity were all erased by pain. She coughed, pain radiating through her anew as her body tried weakly to remove the blood in her airway. Still tasting blood, Harriet slowly returned to herself. The haze of pain slowly lifted, and focused into a single moment of clarity. In that moment, memories rushed to her. The note to Blaise, The three friends she had, rushing through the halls with teachers behind them, coming to her rescue. Her parents in the mirror, holding her close, pride and love in their gaze.

Today, Harriet Potter would die. But she would die preventing Voldemort from returning to life. With her death, the Philosopher's Stone would be lost. As the clarity faded, she looked directly into the eyes of her torturer, and forced three words from her abused throat.

"Voldemort…Sod…Off…"

For a moment following her statement, all sound seemed to slip from the room. Quirrell's face, and likely Voldemort's as well, twisted into a look of horrifying rage. A dual scream of anger filled the room.

"Tell me, Potter!" Quirrell's body fully given to Voldemort, dropped his wand and stepped over the shivering girl at his feet. He dropped to his knees, and his hand grabbed at her head, lifting her from the floor and squeezing. Harriet screamed in pain once again, feeling her flesh burn. But Voldemort's scream of rage quickly turned to a roar of pain as well. Harriet saw Quirrell's hands begin to smolder and blacken where they touched her. On pure instinct, Harriet managed to find control of her arms though the pain and grabbed onto her attacker's arms, trying to hold on to him. Voldemort's roar of pain doubled, and Harriet felt him try to pull away. Finding strength she didn't know she possessed, Harriet griped harder, holding the possessed teacher closer. Already resigned to death, only caring about the pain she was causing her parent's murderer, her hands left his arms to grab onto the two-faced head, thumbs and long fingers digging into both sets of eyes.

Voldemort's screams of pain reached a crescendo, mixed with disbelief. He couldn't fathom how just touching this girl could cause so much pain to him. He felt his strength waning rapidly. Too much more of this could destroy him. The Stone was lost. Quirinus was useless now. He had to flee, escape, find a new way to be reborn. Summoning all of his might, he tore himself away from the Potter bitch, sickeningly feeling small pieces of his face and hands crumble away. Landing on the floor, he tried to gather his strength to leave this human shell, only to see the door burst open, and Albus Dumbledore stride into the room. With a final scream of rage, Voldemort fled from the rapidly dying body of Quirinus Quirrell.

Harriet Potter stared at the figure of her headmaster as the door burst open. Help had finally come, now that it was too late. Darkness rushed up to meet her, and Harriet fell into it gladly.

**00000**

As Harriet Potter slowly, disbelievingly, regained consciousness, the first thing she realized was that the pain was gone. She didn't hurt, and she was actually comfortable on what felt like a bed. To her right she heard a girl, crying softly. Another girl was murmuring. On her left, a chair creaked. Distantly, she heard the scratching of quill on parchment. Did she actually survive? How? Where was she?

Slowly, she opened her eyes, squinting against the afternoon sun. Overwhelmed by the light, she quickly closed them again. She realized her throat felt like she had eaten the Sahara.

"…water…" The world barely made it past her lips as a whisper. Nevertheless, the effect was immediate.

On her left, she heard legs of a chair crash onto the floor, followed by someone jumping to their feet. On her right, both the whispers and the crying ceased at once. After a moment, there was the sound of a chair sliding, someone else leaped to their feet and rushing off somewhere. The person from the left, swallowed loudly, then found enough of their voice to whisper.

"…Harri?" The voice, weak though it was, she recognized instantly as Blaise. Through that and the glimpse she had gotten earlier of blonde hair, placed the two on her left as Daphne and Tracey. Harriet licked her cracked lips.

"Water…please?" The footsteps that had run off earlier were returning, shadowed by a second, heavier set. The new person spoke, and her voice confirmed where exactly Harriet was for her.

"Ms. Potter, thank Merlin you're awake. Here, drink this." Harriet felt Madam Pomfrey press a cool goblet of some sort to her lips, then slowly tip the glorious water into her mouth. All too soon it was pulled away, and placed on a table nearby. "Now that you're awake, I just need to run some diagnostics, make sure there aren't any lingering problems." Harriet heard the nurse mutter under her breath and a wand pass through the air. "There we go, back to normal, save for some slight dehydration and muscle weakness. You should be able to leave here by dinner. I'll just leave you with your friends." Harriet slowly opened her eyes again, squinting to see the rather blurry forms of her three friends.

"Hey…what day is it?" On her right, the still seated form of Tracey Davis began to cry again.

"Oh Harri, you're back!" The brunette clutched at her hand, pulling it into her chest. On her other side, Blaise reached over to the table and grabbed something, before reaching over and sliding her glasses onto her face. With Harriet's sight returned, she saw the Hospital Wing in full detail. Daphne was standing behind Tracey, arm around the other girl's shoulders and tears welling in her eyes. Blaise sank back into his chair, running a hand through his hair and trying his damnedest to smirk. But Harriet could see tears at the corner of even the stoic boy's eyes.

"Since you asked, today is Sunday, the twenty first of June, 1992 if you're wondering. You've been out for nearly three weeks." Nodding, Harriet moved and sat up against the headboard of her bed. Unbidden, she felt tears well in her own eyes.

"I…I was so sure I wouldn't ever see you guys again…" Tracey and Daphne sobbed again, and moved up to hug their bed-ridden friend. Blaise quickly wiped at his eye, and tried to smirk again, with rather more success this time.

"And you almost didn't, Girl-Who-Lived. You should have sent Tracey to get Madam Pomfrey instead of Professor Flitwick, idiot. On the upside, we know Professor Snape doesn't hate you. I've literally never seen or heard of a time he had that much emotion on his face, and is was pretty clearly worry for you. I thought he was having a stroke." Blaise's words, and the mental image that accompanied them, made Harriet guffaw for a moment, then all four friends burst into laughter. Once she regained control over herself, Harriet wiped at her eyes, then emptied the goblet of water on the table next to her.

"Thanks, Blaise. I needed to laugh. I think we all did." Tracey and Daphne, who had found their way back to bedside chairs, nodded, wiping at tears of their own. "Now that I'm awake and we've gotten past the teary welcome backs, let's stop acting like 'Puffs and be Slytherins again, shall we? I've been out for nearly three weeks. Catch me up." Blaise glanced at a clock on the wall, and turned his smirk on Tracey, whose face fell for a moment before reaching into her pocket. Daphne just rolled her eyes as the girl next to her tossed a gold coin across the bed. Harriet raised an eyebrow, an amused look on her face. Daphne shook her head.

"These two placed a bet on how long after you woke up before you asked about the network. Blaise had you under ten minutes." Harriet rolled her eyes, letting them settle on Blaise expectantly. He calmly pocketed his new Galleon.

"Well, first of all, Professor Quirrell is dead. That leaves you, Harri, as the only person that actually knows what happened in that classroom. Of course, the rumor mill is alive and full of rubbish, but nothing particularly interesting. Our illustrious Headmaster has questioned the three of us about the thing you have, but since we can't actually give it to him, or know the true extent of what all you've done to protect it, all we could confirm was that you have it stashed somewhere, and that Quirrell never got a hold of it. Other than that, well, nothing worthy of note here. I mean, our last final exam is tomorrow, but Professor Dumbledore excused you from all of them since we didn't know when you would wake up." Harriet nodded along as she listened.

"Two questions. So I can assume Professor Dumbledore will be along shortly to question me?" Blaise shrugged, but nodded. "And where is my wand?" Blaise reached down to his feet, and picked up Harriet's school bag. He produced the Holly and Phoenix feather wand from within, and handed it to its owner.

"Madam Pomfrey did tell us to make sure you didn't perform any magic until she released you." Harriet nodded, rolling the wood between her fingers.

"I figured. I did, however, feel rather exposed not knowing where it was. And speaking of exposed, am I allowed to change into actual clothes?" Daphne smiled, and handed over her own bag.

"Here…I packed you a fresh kit. The clothes we found you in weren't exactly salvageable." Harriet sighed theatrically.

"Bloody hell…that was my only Slytherin tie. Now I'm going to be a walking point deduction for the rest of term. Last I remember, we were winning the House Cup, too." Blaise rolled his eyes as he stood so Harriet could get out of bed.

"I'm sure the Professors will let the Girl-Who-Lived-Only-To-Nearly-Die-Again slide on the dress code for the last four days of term. Especially if you tell them your only tie was ruined when you were tortured half to death. Or hell, just steal Parkinson's. Then it wouldn't be your fault." Harriet's laughter echoed through the Hospital Wing as she departed for the loo.

**00000**

Madam Pomfrey allowed Harriet to leave with her friends when the bell sounded for dinner. Due to the layout of the castle, the four had the worst possible timing, in Harriet's opinion. They were among the first Slytherins to arrive, but most of the other three houses we already seated.

"Merlin, and I thought the looks and whispers were bad when I got bloody sorted." Rolling her eyes, she took her normal place at the far corner of the Slytherin table.

Her three friends shared amused glances as she ate more than Crabbe and Goyle put together.

"What? I've been unconscious for three weeks. And I was tortured half to death before that." Blaise just smirked.

"Harri, don't look now, but you're reminding me a fair amount of a Weasley." Harriet gently set down her fork, her face hewn from stone.

"That was uncalled for, Zabini."

"Just watching out for my image, Potter. After all, you're the leader of our little group."

If looks could kill, Blaise Zabini would have been a dead man.

**00000**

Harriet absently chewed on her lip as she made her way to Dumbledore's office after dinner. 'Dumbledore is going to demand the Stone, obviously. Far too powerful an item to leave in the hands of a child, he'll say. Maybe though, I can get out of staying with the Dursleys this summer? I can't go to Daphne's, her father right in with the Death Eaters. And Blaise has given me far too many warning about his mother. So Tracey, then? Her mum is Muggleborn, after all. No blood judgment there, and they aren't going to be prostrate before Voldemort any time soon.' Finding herself at her destination, she locked eyes with the gargoyle before rolling them as she spoke the password.

"Ice mice." The gargoyle dutifully leapt aside, though Harriet though she saw it smirk as it did so. As she climbed the stairs, she carefully placed her manipulations and more questionable plans at the back of her mind before the meeting. As she was about to knock, a voice issued from the inside.

"Do come in, Ms. Potter." The Headmaster's office was one of the few places Harriet had not yet been to this year. Harriet quickly glanced around, ignoring the silver instruments, smirking at the Sorting Hat, surprised only to find she was not surprised at the phoenix, before taking a seat and looking up at the headmaster.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" Dumbledore smiled at her, his old eyes twinkling merrily.

"Yes, yes. First, may I just say how glad I am that you have survived your second encounter with Voldemort." Harriet's eyebrow twitched before she could stop it. If Dumbledore noticed, he didn't show it at all. "And may I also say I am quite proud of the way you and your cohorts so skillfully dealt with the protections around the Philosopher's Stone. Truly magnificent, on both accounts." Despite herself, Harriet found that she was fighting a blush.

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, I believe that you currently have the Stone in your possession? May I see it, to make sure that it is the genuine article and that we have not all been hoodwinked?" Harriet didn't fight the amused smirk that appeared on her face.

"I have it yes, Professor. But certainly not with me." Dumbledore actually looked interested.

"Truly…then why did Voldemort attack you so, if you did not have it with you?"

"He was trying to force me to tell him where, exactly, I have hidden it, sir. And, as far as I can remember, he never learned."

"Ah, I see. Where is it then, if you do not carry it?"

"Forgive me sir, but I would rather not say, as I would like to keep the method safe for future endeavors."

"But of course, Ms. Potter. I will respect your privacy. May I assume that you could produce the Stone, if given proper time?" Harriet nodded thankfully.

"Thank you, sir. And yes, I will admit that the Stone has not left the castle. I can certainly produce it with time."

"Good, good. You see, I have had several long discussions with my friend Nicholas Flamel, the creator of that particular Philosopher's Stone, over the past weeks, and we believe that it is too dangerous an object in the wrong hands to exist. I would see the Stone destroyed." Harriet calmly filed the information about Flamel away before nodding.

"I see your reasoning, sir. Especially if the creator of the Stone wishes it gone. I can bring the Stone to you here tomorrow morning while my classmates are in their final examinations, as I understand I am exempt, if that suits you?" Inwardly, Harriet cringed at the thought of handing off the Stone to have it destroyed, but Dumbledore was powerful, indeed, and much better as an ally than an enemy. The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes seemed to double.

"Yes, that would be just fine I think, gives you enough time to transmute a decent amount of gold, I believe." Harriet just smiled warmly in return,

"Sir, I had that business taken care of long before I was confronted by Voldemort. In truth, I had been hoping to keep the Stone, if only to experiment with the Elixir some years down the road. Gold I have enough of for now, and I am the Scion of the Noble and Ancient House of Potter. Ah well, another opportunity lost." 'Granted, that isn't the actual truth, but it's one he wasn't expecting and it is mostly true.' Harriet was rewarded with the rare sight of Albus Dumbledore, nonplussed. In the corner, the Sorting Hat let out a great guffaw.

"Oh, girl, I am suddenly very glad I let you talk me into placing you in Slytherin. This side of you would have been so stunted in Gryffindor." Harriet smirked cheekily at the old hat. Meanwhile, Dumbledore found his mental footing again.

"Really now, did Alastair truly desire to place you among the Lions?" Filing the name of the Sorting Hat away for future reference, Harriet nodded. However, before she could speak, the Hat spoke again.

"Indeed, Albus. Plenty of Bravery in that one. Plenty of it. Of course, plenty of Ambition, too. I was torn between the two for a time, if an old goat like you can remember the Sorting. In the end, though, she presented enough evidence of her Cunning for me to send her into the Green and Silver. And now I see that I'll never live to regret that decision, you cheeky brat." Harriet chuckled to herself, while Dumbledore eyed her thoughtfully.

"I see…well, Ms. Potter, in there anything else you would like to discuss?" Harriet let out a great breath, putting her good humor to the side.

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore. Do I really have to go back? To…the Dursleys?" Harriet saw that the headmaster's eyes lost their twinkle for a moment.

"Yes, my dear, it is with your family that you are safest." Harriet fought to control herself.

"My…family? Is where I'm supposed to be…safe? With all due respect, Professor, I have never in my memory felt _Safe_ there, and I'm definitely not a part of that _Family_." Dumbledore sighed deeply.

"Regretfully, you must return, if only for a time. You see, my dear, around that home, at the night of your parent's murder, I used the magic of your mother's sacrifice to weave blood wards around the place. These wards protect you even at Hogwarts, but you must return each year to recharge them. Do you recall how the late Professor Quirrell, after he had been possessed by Voldemort, burned so horribly when you touched? That is due to these blood wards. However, if you do truly dislike it there, I can arrange to pick you up on your birthday." By the time he finished, Harriet was nearly shaking in her anger, tears streaming down her face.

"Dislike it there? _Dislike?_ I bloody hate it there! My Aunt speaks to me only to order me around or to be cruel. My uncle only ever speaks to me to be cruel, tosses me around, and locks me away for days at a time for the smallest imagined infraction. And not to forget the beatings every time something 'Freakish' happens. And my cousin tries so hard to be just like his father. Only, he can't lock me away, so he just beats me daily, instead. I'd rather be an arrogant, thoughtless Mudblood in Slytherin than spend another day in the actual hell that is 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey." Harriet seemed to deflate as the anger left her body, replaced by a deep sadness. "Please, Professor. Please. I can't go back there. Not after I've spent the whole year here. If you dropped me off there, and returned at my birthday, all you would find is my corpse. A month in that place, and no magic to defend myself? After I've spent all year at a school for 'Freaks' as my uncle would say? I'm no Gryffindor, Professor. I don't have a death wish. Tracey Davis owled her parents back before Easter. They said they would be happy to have me over for the summer. Or hell, I have to gold, I'd be happy to stay in Diagon Alley all summer. Merlin, I'd stay here for the summer. I'd even consider going to stay the summer with Draco Malfoy, if it meant not going back to Privet Drive. _Anywhere_ but there, Professor…"

In that moment, after Harriet bared her soul to her Headmaster, Alastair the Sorting Hat, and Fawkes the phoenix on the evening of 21 June, 1992, she learned a horrible truth. Albus Dumbledore truly believed in second chances, and once his mind was made up, nothing would change it, not if his actions were for the Greater Good.

"I am sorry, Harriet my dear, but you must recharge the wards. You will go home on the train, where your family will pick you up. The next day, I will arrive at your home to set expectations of your stay there until your birthday. And then, on your birthday, I will return and take you to the Davis residence, if I am not informed of a change of plans before then by owl." Harriet just stared at him through her tears for a long moment after that, allowing the silence to stretch. Then, she stood abruptly, and turned to the door.

"In that case, Professor, as Scion of Potter, I must make sure I have a Will filed with Gringotts. I have business to attend to, excuse me Professor." Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door and purposefully strode from the room. Ignoring that is was likely past curfew, Harriet wandered the halls. She found herself at the top of the Astronomy Tower before she stopped, and started to cry.

**00000**

The final days of the school year were, as a rule, noisy and hectic. But the rules always seemed less concrete around Harriet Potter.

It was deep into the night after her confrontation with the Headmaster that Harriet returned to her dorm. Her friends, having final examinations the following day, were already in bed. In her solitude in the common room, she wrote a letter to each of her friends, and another to Dumbledore. In the early morning, just as the sun began to shine over the horizon, Harriet went up to the owlry, and quickly found her white feathered friend.

"Hey, Hedwig. I need you to take this to the Head accountant for Potter at Gringotts." Harriet carefully tied a thick parcel to her owl's leg. "You're a smart owl, aren't you, girl? Don't come back to me right away. I think you'll know when it's safe to come find me. And…if I'm not around to come back to…go to Daphne. I know you like her, and she needs a good owl. I'm sorry I have to say this, but I hope I see you again, Hedwig." The owl hooted softly, and rubbed her head against Harriet's from her perch on the girl's shoulder before flying off into the sunrise.

And, for Harriet Potter, those words to her owl would be the last she said to a friend before she arrived at the Dursley's. And, indeed, Hedwig would be the last of her friends to see her as well.

**00000**

At the Leaving Feast, there was a conspicuously empty seat at the far corner of the Slytherin table. Blaise, Daphne, and Tracey all sat in their usual cluster around it, worrying about their friend. Daphne shook her head.

"No, there has to be more than that. I saw Harri take the Stone Monday morning. She gave it back to Dumbledore. It wasn't that important to her. Just giving up the Stone wouldn't make her like this." To her left, Tracey nodded.

"I think…it has to do with that Muggle family she lives with. Dumbledore told me that Harri would be able to come to my house on her birthday. My mum wanted to have her for the entire summer. I mean, the whole year, Harri has all but refused to talk about them. And then the way she broke down because of that mirror when we got the Stone…and she didn't leave the castle over winter hols…and the way she was practically pleading for one of us to take her in over the summer…this is something beyond her not liking those Muggles. Merlin, what if they're just horrible to her? They're bloody Muggles, they don't care about the Girl-Who-Lived…" Tracey trailed off, all three of them contemplating what she was getting at. Suddenly, Blaise stood, brushing imaginary crumbs from his robes.

"Come on, you two. I think I know where Harriet is. We need to find her, and get our favorite diabolical mastermind back."

They were wrong. After two hours of searching every meeting place they had ever had, Harriet still eluded them.

Harriet Potter was, in fact, in an empty classroom on the third floor, not far from where they had retrieved the Philosopher's Stone. The room contained only two things. Harriet Potter, and the Mirror of Erised. Both were equally hollow.

**00000**

**00000**

**AN: **And this is me being a colossal prick to my characters. I feel as though I should note that Dumbledore here is not the evil, mustache twirling douche canoe he is in various other fics. He's not going to be taking any flying leaps off the Moral Event Horizon.

Anyhizzle, any questions, comments, and cries of anguish are welcomed and appreciated. I'll be back next week, unless I get too terribly bored.

~ExaltedChaos


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Listen, I still don't own this. I still wish I did, though.

**00000**

**00000**

When Harriet arrived at Privet Drive, the Dursleys were quite wary of her. For a day, Harriet allowed herself to hope. However, when Dumbledore arrived the next day, he made it quite clear that Harriet was not allowed to use magic outside of school. Instantly, she could see the cruel gleam in her giant uncle's eyes. Once Dumbledore left, the abuse began at once.

Three hours later, Harriet heard to sound of a new padlock snapping into place outside the door of her cupboard. She began to shudder as she curled onto the tiny mattress. The only thing that kept her from crying out loud was that, after her recent experience with the Curiactus Curse, the pain was not nearly as bad. But she had nothing left. Her glasses were broken. Her ribs were bruised, some of them cracked. Her left arm was obviously broken. But, all of her belongings were locked upstairs in Dudley's second bedroom.

After four days locked in the cupboard under the stairs, Harriet could feel herself getting weaker. She was desperately hungry, impossibly thirsty, and she knew St. Mungo's was the only hospital in Britain that could fix her arm at this point. Slytherin self-preservation kicked in again.

'No…I will not allow the sodding Dursleys to be the death of me. Bloody Voldemort has failed, twice now. Sod the law, I am a witch, and I am saving my own life.'

**00000**

Deep in the night, Harriet wormed her good hand into the tear in the side of the mattress. As a child, she had hidden her most important things in this tear, like her secret library card. When she had returned from Hogwarts, she saw no reason to stop. For the first time in a week, Harriet cracked a smile as she removed her wand from the tear. Fighting the pain, she crouched in front of the door, wand pointed at the crack. It was a testament to her weakness that it took seven attempts to cast the Unlocking Charm. Slowly, trying not to make any noise, she crept up the stairs to the second bedroom. After another six attempts, she was able to unlock the door get her school trunk. Silently thanking her foresight for getting a permanent Lightening Charm on it, she carefully pulled her trunk down the stairs and out the front door.

**00000**

Albus Dumbledore, as Chief Warlock of the Wizgamot, had certain privileges. As such, he was the only one notified of the underage magic reported for 4 Privet Drive. He studied the letter in his hand carefully. The only magic, preformed in the dead of the night less than a week after he had left Harriet in the care of her family, were two Unlocking Charms. Did young Harriet flee from Privet Drive? And why were the Unlocking Charms necessary to do so? He had placed small Confundus Charms on the girl's family during his visit, ones that would greatly amplify positive emotions. Harriet should have had a fine summer there. No matter, he would have to track the girl down and force her to return to Privet Drive. It is for the Greater Good.

**00000**

Harriet Potter weakly stumbled from the Knight Bus into the Leaky Cauldron. Given the time of day, no one was in the pub, really, except for Tom, the seemingly eternal sentinel behind the bar. Tom, seeing Harriet Potter stumble into his pub in bloody Muggle clothes and dragging a trunk, rushed from behind the bar to meet her.

"Oh my goodness, Miss Potter, how can I help you?" Harriet looked at him blearily.

"Tom? Good, this is the right place. I need a place to stay, and to get to St. Mungo's. And I need to see whoever wizards go to when they need glasses." Tom made up his mind in an instant.

"Of course, Miss Potter. I'll take your trunk and put it up in one of my rooms. Then I'll help you to St. Mungo's. They'll be able to address your vision there as well." With a wave of his wand, Harriet's trunk flew from her weak grasp and up the stairs. "I'm sorry, Miss Potter, but this will likely be uncomfortable, but I hesitate to Floo with someone in your condition. Take my hand, please." With another wave of his wand to place a sign saying he shall return to the bar shortly, Tom Apparated Harriet directly to the hospital.

**00000**

When Harriet awoke, it took her a moment to realize that she was still in St. Mungo's. And at her bedside was the one person she really did not wish to see, Albus Dumbledore. In the back of her mind, she realized that she could see again, but wasn't wearing glasses. She pushed that thought to the back of her mind as unimportant for the moment.

"Professor, I will not return to Privet Drive. Not this summer, nor any thereafter. The moment after you left, Dudley and Uncle Vernon took turns beating me. After several hours, I was locked in the cupboard under the stairs for four days. Four days without food, water, light, or human contact, all the while nursing a broken arm and several cracked ribs along with a number of other welts and bruises. If I had not carefully hidden my wand the instant I got there, I would have died there. If you think I am exaggerating, I am sure that magic has ways of viewing my own memory." Dumbledore was taken aback. He did not expect the girl to, instantly upon waking, divine his purpose and launch into a speech to shut him down.

"Yes, my dear. I am what is called a Legillimens. I have the ability to look into the minds of others. If you would let me, I would like to see the complete memory of your brief stay with your family." At the girl's nod, Dumbledore drew his wand and stared into her eyes. _"Legillimens!"_ Harriet immediately felt a foreign presence in her mind, like she had occasionally with Quirrell/Voldemort in her first year. Instead of trying to throw him out, she willingly brought up the memories he was looking for.

After a short time, Dumbledore sat back and Harriet felt his presence in her mind vanish. His eyes did not twinkle right now, and he looked deeply troubled.

"I am truly sorry, my dear, for what you went through. When I visited your family the day after you arrived, I placed several Confundus Charms on them that should have greatly increased any positive feelings they had towards you. I truly thought I was doing what was best for you." Harriet couldn't believe her ears.

"Professor, I tried to explain this to you in your office. The only positive feelings anyone in that house has towards me is the satisfaction of seeing me in trouble or in pain. For ten years, I was only a slave and an abomination to them. Until I went to Diagon Alley with Hagrid, my most prized possession was a library card that I had to keep absolutely hidden from the Dursleys, even though I needed parental consent to get it because I was seven at the time. I spent a month learning to copy Aunt Petunia's handwriting so I could forge a permission slip. After all of that, I could go to the library for maybe an hour or two a week. At least, until I had to start skipping school because it was impossible for me to do worse than Dudley, and I was brutally punished whenever I was better than him. Once I did, that library card was my only way to educate myself. There is nothing redeeming about that family, a family I certainly am not a part of.

"You claim I need to stay there for the blood wards. Well, Voldemort knows about them now, vaguely at least. And, as his own name tends to prove, the fear of something is just as powerful as the thing itself, even if it doesn't exist. Voldemort will be afraid to touch me for the rest of my life, whether or not the blood wards still hold." Dumbledore chuckled to himself, the twinkle in his eyes returning.

"My dear Harriet, it has been quite a long time since someone has read me the riot act. You also raise a good point about the blood wards. And, seeing what I have seen, I will not press to send you to the Dursley's any longer. Severus had warned me you seemed to be a Slytherin archetype. I legitimately pity anyone who would stand between you and your ambitions.

"Now, as you may or may not know, I am your magical guardian. As such, I was alerted when they admitted you here. If you would like, now that you are awake, I can return you to the Leaky Cauldron, where I understand Tom is holding your school trunk for you." Harriet smiled widely, just thankful to have some semblance of control in her life.

**00000**

Tracey Davis was rapidly losing her grip on her sanity. She was two weeks into her summer vacation, and she had received letters from both Blaise and Daphne, but none of them had heard from Harriet, save that Blaise had briefly seen her on Platform 9 ¾, as she removed her Invisibility Cloak that she had presumably spent the whole train ride, and likely most of the previous days under. Hearing an owl tap on her window, she spun, only to freeze in place upon seeing Hedwig. With her worry overcoming her shock, she quickly opened the window, allowing Hedwig in. The snowy owl took a perch on Tracey's desk, and presented a leg with a letter. Murmuring a thanks to the owl, Tracey untied the letter and instantly recognized Harriet's frankly terrible handwriting.

"_Tracey-_

_I'm sorry. I really am. When I went and saw Dumbledore, he sentenced me to spending July with my Muggle relatives. Now, you three are smart little Slytherins, I'm sure you've already patched together that we don't exactly have a pleasant dynamic. This letter is going to explain exactly how unpleasant that dynamic is for me. _

_When I arrived at their home from King's Cross, the first thing I did was hide my wand. That action saved my life. You see, at first they, my Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin, were at least wary of me. After all, I could do magic now. But, the following day, Dumbledore came calling. As a part of his talk with them, of which I only heard pieces, he explained that as I am not of age, using magic outside of school is illegal. _

_The instant Dumbledore left, my uncle grabbed me by the hair and dragged me into the center of the house, away from the windows. Then, my uncle and cousin took turns nearly beating the life from my body. You should understand, I know I'm rather small for my age. But my uncle and cousin have far more in common with whales and pigs than people. They're huge, and without magic I can't fight back._

_After a few hours of this, they seemed to get bored, or thought that I know "Knew my place". The beating stopped, but I did not get off lucky. My left arm was broken, my glasses shattered, several ribs fractured, numerous other contusions including two black eyes. _

_In that state, I was tossed into my childhood "bedroom", which in reality is a coat cupboard not much larger that a meter in any direction, and locked inside. For four days. Four days, Tracey. No food, no water, no light, no loo, saw neither hide nor hair of a human. During the fourth night, I realized they were never going to let me out. I had been locked up before, but never longer than 48 hours. And before, my jailors would often come to the door and scream at me, making sure I was learning whatever lesson I needed to learn. But this time, not a word was spoken to me in four days. So I, after a rather embarrassing number of failed attempts, used an illegal Unlocking Charm to escape the cupboard, and another to retrieve my trunk, before leaving and taking the Knight Bus to the Leaky Cauldron. I passed out almost immediately, and my memory is rather fuzzy regardless, but I woke up the next afternoon in St. Mungo's, with the only lingering symptom being the after effects of my near complete dehydration and starvation. _

_After I awoke, Dumbledore and I came to an agreement, and I shall never set foot into 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, ever again, unless I am coming as an avenging angel. For the moment, I am staying in a room in the Leaky Cauldron, but if your parents are welcoming, I would love to come stay with you. I know we are still a couple weeks away from my birthday, but I was a serious__ prat__ the last days of term, and I would like to try to make it up to you. _

_Hedwig, smart girl that she is, has likely already delivered Daphne and Blaise their letters, and is waiting for your reply, since your reply most directly impacts my immediate future. Nonetheless, if you tell me to sod off, I understand._

_~The repentant__ Prat__-Who-Lived-Thrice._

It took several minutes before Tracey could tear her eyes away from the letter she had just read. It would likely have been several more minutes, had Hedwig not hooted indignantly. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Tracey fled the room, letter in hand, looking for her parents.

**00000**

The next morning, Tracey was waiting anxiously in the foyer of her home, staring into the fireplace.

Suddenly, the flames turned green, and a dark haired girl spun from the flames, ending flat on her back in the Davis foyer.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to hate magical transportation that doesn't involve a broom." From her position on the floor, she looked around until she found Tracey, and a crooked grin split her face. "Hey, Trace. Mind helping me up?" Tracey all but ran over, pulling her friend to her feet and wrapping her into a nearly rib breaking hug.

"Harri…we've been so worried…then I got your letter, and…Merlin, how could they do that to you? How could Dumbledore? I nearly went round the twist…" Harriet soothingly pat her friend's back.

"Trace, it's ok now. I made it out. I'm alive, and I never have to go back there. Now, enough of this sad, Hufflepuff nonsense. I'd love to meet your parents." A voice from the side of the room spoke.

"And I would to be introduced to you, Harriet Potter. Although, I think the Hufflepuff crack there was in bad taste." The two girls broke apart, and Tracey rolled her eyes.

"Harriet, this is my mother, Johanna Davis, and a Hufflepuff Alum." Harriet looked over at the young looking blonde woman leaning casually against the wall and saw the mirth in her eyes. Harriet smirked, and curtsied deeply.

"You will have to forgive my language, Madam Davis. I am a Slytherin to my core, and I'm sure you know how smug we can be at times. I also apologize in advance, as now that I am here, I fear I may bring out similar traits in your daughter." Johanna laughed aloud.

"Harriet, I do think I like you. Your cheek is rather refreshing. Tracey, why don't you show her around. I had Missy make sure the guest room across the hall from you is ready for her. We can do lunch at noon." Tracey laughed along with her mother, and grabbed Harriet by the arm, pulling her into the house and up the stair.

After lunch, the three adjourned to the lounge for tea. Smiling at her guest over her cup, Johanna spoke.

"I will admit, Harriet, the trunk Missy brought over was not what I was expecting for a girl your age, Slytherin or not." Harriet chuckled.

"I bought it for myself at Christmas. In all likelihood, I had more protection on my things than most of the teachers as a first year. I assume you at least know the jist of the letter I sent to Tracey yesterday?" Johanna's smile dimmed, and that answered Harriet's question. "Right. Well, suffice it to say, I learned the value of protecting what is mine from a young age. Then, of course, I started exchanging letters with the Potter account manager over at Gringotts." Harriet shrugged weakly. "I had the opportunity to take it to its logical conclusion." Harriet suddenly broke into a wide grin. "I mean, I asked if they could make the trunk in periwinkle, but those blokes down Knockturn Alley really like their black." Johanna just stared at her guest, while Tracey tried her best not to spit her tea all over her mother. Harriet sighed again.

"I've done some thinking the last couple weeks. I'm the Girl-Who-Lived, and if you'll excuse my language Mrs. Davis, I've been through some shit. But I'm not going to let myself be defined by what I've been through. I am a Slytherin, I am not lacking in ambition. I'm just going to keep moving forward, until what I've accomplished outshines what I've been through. And I know how hard that is going to be, considering the events of Halloween 1981 I count firmly in the "what I've been through" category." Both members of the Davis family just stared at Harriet with something between wonder and awe. Johanna found her voice first.

"Harriet Potter, you are by far the most mature and determined girl I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I only hope that when you take over the magical world, you do not forget me." Harriet looked at the woman askew.

"Mrs. Davis, are you sure you weren't in Slytherin?" There was a moment of silence, before all three broke into laughter.

**00000**

As days passed, Harriet fell into a rhythm for her stay at Davis Manor. She would wake up at what Tracey described as "an unholy hour" and go for a jog in the gardens. She had started her morning jogs at the behest of a Healer at St. Mungo's to overcome her lingering physical weakness. After breakfast with the Davis family, she and Tracey would retire upstairs to work on their summer homework. Then lunch, followed by tea with Tracey and her mother. The remaining hours of the day were split between further homework and flying over the back lawn. While Tracey was no grand flyer, Johanna had admitted to being a Chaser at school, and became a willing flying partner for Harriet in the afternoons.

On her birthday, Hogwarts letters for both girls arrived, and thus their daily studying shifted to reading ahead. As the days of August stretched past, for once in Harriet's life, she got a glimpse at what a normal life could be like. Both Johanna and Richard Davis had accepted her into their home as a surrogate daughter.

However, Harriet's paranoia prevented her from relaxing completely. So she planned, and plotted. With letters between visits, she made sure Blaise was ready to take over as the Slytherin information broker and provider of general contraband. Both Daphne and Richard were willing tutors for Harriet in the aspects of Pureblood society, and in what her role as Scion of Potter truly was.

There was also a conversation that Harriet and Johanna had one night, but Harriet was trying her best to forget that it had ever happened, not that Tracey would ever allow that to happen. Harriet also thought that Johanna would rather forget it as well.

**00000**

Almost before she knew it, Harriet was standing on Platform 9 ¾. They were quite early, but the four Slytherins had planned that. After they claimed a compartment at the back of the train, they closed the doors and sat down to plan.

"Blaise, good to see you. I assume you've been establishing yourself into your new position in our House this summer?" The dark boy nodded.

"That I have, with no major issues. There are a couple others who are going to try to step into the void that Collins left, but we'll be able to push them out."

"Whoever they are, don't immediately put them out of business. Study them first. If they actually show talent, recruit them." Daphne scowled.

"How, Harri?" Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Easy. I'll offer them a spot on my payroll. Or network grows, they get Galleons in their pocket, everybody wins. Especially us." Blaise looked thoughtful.

"Ok, I'll bite. Harri, how exactly rich are you?" Harriet just grinned widely, then reached into her satchel and passed Blaise a letter. The boy's eyebrows quickly began to chase his hairline. He cleared this throat as he passed the letter back.

"Well then. And the vault fills to that amount every month, from the ancestral Potter vault? That's…wow. Duly noted, we have more gold than we know what to do with. Do you mind if I offer to put some of our better informants on the payroll as well?" Harriet waved her hand dismissively.

"Not at all. That said, I've been thinking. Blaise, if we need to split your duties, let me know. You do need to pass class as well as traffic contraband and sell secrets." The boy shrugged.

"Isn't that why we keep Tracey around?" The brunette just glared at him. Fighting laughter, Harriet turned to look at Daphne.

"Alright, so, massive subject change, but Daphne, have you heard from those suspicious friends of your father?" The blonde looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook her head.

"Not anything specific. Why?" Harriet shook her head.

"Because I'm getting the feeling I'll never have a normal year at Hogwarts. Back at the beginning of the summer while I was staying in Diagon Alley, I got woken up in the middle of the night by a manic house elf that insisted I couldn't go to Hogwarts because it wasn't safe. Once I got to Tracey's, I got the Davis elf to do some recon for me. Turns out, the manic elf belongs to the Malfoy's. And if Lucius Malfoy is planning something that makes Hogwarts not a safe place for the Girl-Who-Lived…" She let the sentence die, allowing her friends to finish it for themselves. Tracey and Daphne shared a panicked look, while Blaise just groaned and let his face fall into his hands.

"First of all, Harri, before you get started, the three of us aren't going anywhere. The Dark Lord himself showed up last year. Whatever this scheme of Malfoy's is, it can't be worse than that." Blaise looked up, making eye contact with the three girls in turn, ending with Harriet. "In fact, if we can judge Malfoy senior by Malfoy junior, it is likely much better than that." The four second years smiled, and the train ride passed with easy conversation.

**00000**

After the Welcoming Feast, Harriet sought out Marcus Flint in their Common Room. The seventh year sneered at her in distain.

"What do you want, Potter?" Harriet just smiled serenely.

"I just have a simple question for you, Flint. I understand you are Captain of our Quidditch team this year. I am merely curious as to when tryouts will be held." If anything, the sneer on Flint's face intensified.

"There won't be tryouts, Potter. All of our positions are filled." Harriet glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, and she dropped her voice, her smile turning predatory.

"I assure you, Flint, it would be best for you and our House team if you did hold tryouts." Flint rounded on her, anger filling his face.

"I am the King of Slytherin, Potter, and you will watch the way you speak to your betters, Half-Blood." To Flint's confusion, her smile didn't falter.

"I know you're King. I also know that one Spencer Collins put you into your position. I also know what you've done, Flint. It would be a shame if word got out about that lovely evening you had in Kent the summer after your fourth year, wouldn't it?" The words were spoken casually, but all the color drained from Flint's face. Harriet just smirked.

"What? Did you really think that you would stay as King after Collins left, and no one else would know your secrets? Did you think you could finally be your own man? Guess again, Flint. I know everything. I know that Kent is just the beginning. You should learn how to speak to your betters, Flint. I'll give you a couple days to book the pitch for tryouts and let me know of a date. Take too much time, and I might have to start a rumor or two." Harriet looked up at the seventh year's face, studying him. "I have no intention of controlling your every move. I require only two things from you this year. First, make no moves against me or any that follow me, and discourage the rest of our house from doing the same. Second, I will occasionally ask for a small favor, like having actual Quidditch tryouts. I expect you to cooperate when I do. Good night Flint, I await your posting of the date of tryouts."

**00000**

Bright and early on Saturday morning, Harriet walked out onto the Quidditch pitch, her Nimbus 2000 over her shoulder. The rest of the team were already there, including one Draco Malfoy. Harriet, cataloguing the faces, realized that all seven of her fellow Slytherins had Nimbus 2001s. Harriet scowled, which deepened when the Malfoy Scion opened his mouth.

"Oi! Scarhead, there's no place for you here. I am the Slytherin Seeker. And all of the other positions are filled as well." Harriet noted that Crabbe and Goyle were standing behind the pale boy, each with a Beater's bat in hand. Once she arrived at the group, she said nothing, only gave the team captain a significant look. Flint scowled, but cleared his throat.

"Malfoy, our Head of House passed on to me that Hooch had high praise for Potter's Seeker credentials. I would be quieter, if I were you, as your position is the only one on the team that is in jeopardy. Now that Potter has decided to join us, we can get our Seeker trial started. Crabbe, Goyle, get in the air. I'll release the Bludgers just after I release the Snitch. Let's see if our would-be Seekers can handle some pressure during their hunt. Potter, Malfoy in the air, let's get this over with." Draco, infuriated that he would actually have to try out, launched into the air with a huff. Harriet followed, pleased. She pulled up beside him in the air.

"I'm sorry, Draco, did you think that you could just buy your way onto the team? Did Daddy use his connections to buy these 2001s? It's really too bad for you that I convinced Flint to actually do tryouts, isn't it? Don't worry too badly, after all the gold your father spent on these brooms, I'm sure Flint will give you a Chaser spot after I beat you to the Snitch." Harriet had been watching their captain on the ground, standing beside the box that held the various Quidditch balls. She timed her speech so that she finished right as Flint began to shout up at them, leaving Draco no time to respond.

"Alright you lot. Snitch is away, Bludgers in ten seconds." Harriet shot her competitor a grin and sped off, putting some distance between herself and the Beaters as she began to scan for the glint of gold.

**00000**

At lunchtime, Harriet walked into the Great Hall, smirk on her face, and saw her friends already in their seats. Blaise, seeing her approach, noticed the smirk and returned one of his own. Daphne and Tracey, with their backs to the doors, were puzzled, until a victorious looking Harriet sat down across from them. Blaise sipped at his tea, then turned toward the new arrival as she began to fill her plate.

"From the look on your face, I assume Malfoy didn't get any better at flying over the summer?" Harriet nodded, then scowled at her plate briefly.

"Yeah, he still couldn't out fly a Muggleborn first year. He still made the team, though. Daddy Dearest bought the entire Slytherin team Nimbus 2001s, before they went into wide production. So Flint was practically forced into giving the ponce a Chaser spot. Crabbe and Goyle are our new Beaters, too. If Quidditch wasn't so much fun, I'd quit. On the upside, I now have a 2000 and a 2001 to choose from, at least once I take the one that Higgs currently has in his possession." From across the table, Tracey looked at the dark haired girl askew.

"Terence Higgs? The Sixth year? I'm fairly sure he would rather kill himself slowly than give you one of the seven privately owned Nimbus 2001s in Britain." Harriet chuckled to herself.

"Didn't you learn last year, Trace? No one can stop a Potter that has made up her mind."

**00000**

**00000**

**AN: **Yeah…so Harriet wasn't really exaggerating about the Dursleys. But hey, Dumbledore learned his lesson, right? Right? Oh, yeah, I'm the only one who actually knows the answer to that question.

Regardless, questions, comments, and cries of anguish can be submitted directly to me via the box below.

~ExaltedChaos


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: **I'll be honest, I'm not too sure about this one. I have a sinking feeling that I'm glossing over too much. Summarizing in retrospect, telling instead of showing. However, for now, this will have to do. I hit a serious wall for a while with CoS. If I can move past it later, I'll re-write this and fix it.

Also, I'm still not making any money on this.

**00000**

**00000**

As September moved into October, Harriet, for reasons she couldn't adequately explain, grew increasingly nervous. Sure, there were others in Slytherin who were also trying to move into Collins' legacy, but that was an issue that could be dealt with, easily, in time. Sure, Draco continued to be a git, especially during their forced interaction in Quidditch, but that wasn't really it either. Sure, her Defense Professor was almost worse than last years, but merely incredibly annoying and a fraud instead of being possessed by Voldemort, but that wasn't the issue either. By Halloween, Harriet had all but forced herself to relax, pushing the vague worry from her mind. The festive Feast concluded without incident, and Harriet finally pushed the dregs of fear from her mind. However, walking back to the dungeons, she heard a voice, deep and menacing. Unconsciously, it sent a shudder down her spine.

"_Kill…hunt…purge…"_

All at once, her fears redoubled. Quickly, she grabbed Blaise, who had been walking beside her, and ran down a side hall.

"Blaise, did you hear a voice just now?" Blaise just quirked an eyebrow.

"A voice? No. There was a quiet hissing sound a minute ago…" As he spoke, Blaise put the pieces together in his head, and his gaze turned serious. "Ok, so I take it you didn't hear nondescript hissing?" Harriet nodded. "What did this apparent snake that no one saw say?" Harriet looked behind her, making sure no one else was in earshot.

"It sounded…bloodthirsty. I mean, some of Parseltongue doesn't translate to English very well, but it wanted to hurt people, to kill people. It wanted to purge…who or what, I don't know. Now, admittedly, I haven't actually spoken with very many snakes…but this one sounded bloody huge. And that's what doesn't make sense. People would have seen a snake of any real size in that corridor." Blaise nodded slowly.

"Not being a Parselmouth myself, I'll have to take your word for it. Do you think this could have something to do with that strange elf you met this summer?" Before Harriet could reply, the two heard panicked, eerily familiar screams echo down the corridor. They shared a look, and took off towards the commotion. On the second floor, they found Tracey kneeling on the floor, over another girl their age and a strangely still ghost. Daphne was next to her, trying to pull the sobbing girl away. As Harriet and Blaise drew closer, they quickly recognized the prostrate girl as Hermione Granger. What scared Harriet more than anything, however, was the look of terror frozen on the Ravenclaw's face. Forcing herself to move past the fear, Harriet looked around at the gathering students and tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing her famous scar.

"Somebody go find Professor Flitwick! And the Headmaster!" No one moved, though most turned to look at the owner of the voice, and found themselves surprised to see the irate face of the Girl-Who-Lived. "Now! We have a second year, potentially dead in the corridor, and you're all going to stand around like buffoons? GO!" A the fifth year Ravenclaw Prefects, who had been loitering at the back of the crowd, glanced at each other, and took off in opposite directions. Seeing that real help was coming, Harriet turned back to what she refused to call Hermione's body. Daphne had pulled Tracey away, but the brunette still wept openly into the taller girl's shoulder. Blaise had taken up a position a little ways away, and was skillfully blocking the corridor so that the still gathering students wouldn't swarm Hermione and the ghost. A couple Ravenclaws had taken up positions beside him, nodding their thanks to the Slytherin boy.

However, one particularly anxious first year broke through the line. However, the Ravenclaw boy stumbled slightly as Blaise caught his arm, and ended up tripping over the ghost. All sound in the corridor, save for Tracey's quieting sobs, stopped. Harriet turned sharply towards Hermione, gears spinning in her mind. Kneeling next to her, Harriet bent down, lowering her ear to Hermione's face. After a moment, she stood again, and turned back to the crowd just as Dumbledore and Flitwick began to push through it.

"She's still breathing. So…petrified?" The last word was directed at Dumbledore, and had a definite questioning tone. The Headmaster nodded thoughtfully.

"So it seems, Miss Potter. Five points to Slytherin for your deductive reasoning, and another ten for keeping your head in a bad situation, and making sure the proper authorities were notified. Filius, would you kindly help me levitate Miss Granger and her ghostly companion to the Hospital Wing?" Tracey finally quieted herself, and looked up at the Headmaster.

"You mean…she'll be ok?" Dumbledore smiled gently.

"In time, Miss Davis. Unfortunately, the potion needed to restore the petrified we do not have on hand, and could take quite some time to prepare. Miss Greengrass, Miss Potter, Mr. Zabini, you may come see your friend in the Hospital Wing come tomorrow, but for now I leave it to you three to escort Miss Davis back to your common room." The Slytherins nodded, and headed down the stairs, followed by Flitwick and Dumbledore and their levitated charges. The other students were quickly rounded up by Prefects, and sent off to their respective dormitories.

A few minutes later, the corridor was empty. As such, no one noticed Ginny Weasley emerge from the girl's loo at the end of the hall with a haunted look on her face.

**00000**

In the following days, the Hogwarts rumor mill was alive with speculation about what had happened to Hermione Granger. Tracey, whenever she wasn't in class, was either in the library researching for a cause of the petrification, or by Hermione's side in the Hospital Wing. She was joined, in both locations, by Hermione's friends in Ravenclaw, Su Li and Padma Patil. As the days since Halloween turned into weeks, and the news that the petrification cure wouldn't be ready for several months due to the need to grow fresh mandrakes was released, the three girls sequestered themselves more and more in the library, digging for a cause.

The third week of November, Harriet joined them at their table in the library. The Ravenclaws looked at her suspiciously. Harriet looked around, making sure that no one was around, and leaned over the table so that the other three could hear her whisper.

"Li, Patil, I get that you don't trust me. Slytherins, as a whole, haven't done anything to earn that trust from you. Listen, forget our Houses for a minute. Hermione was my friend too. I, unfortunately, don't have the time to sit in the library for hours a day looking for clues. What I do have is a clue for the three of you to keep in mind. All I ask it that this stays between the three of you. Use it to focus your research, just don't tell anyone." Su and Padma both looked pensive for a moment then nodded. Harriet returned the nod, then dropped her gaze to the table.

"Now, please don't freak out…I'm a Parselmouth." The two Ravenclaws sat back in their chairs, shocked. Tracey narrowed her eyes, knowing that tidbit already, and wondering where this was going. After a moment, Harriet continued. "After the Halloween Feast, I was walking back to the Slytherin dorms when I heard a voice. Now, Parseltongue is a magical language, I understand it instinctively. At the time, I didn't actually realize what I had heard until I talked to Blaise about it, and all he heard was a hissing noise. Whatever I heard that night…it wants to kill, to hunt, to purge. At first, I wasn't sure what it meant, but then I heard Tracey's scream, and found Hermione. I think, something has one hell of a blood purist agenda. Now, how something that speaks the tongue of snakes is petrifying people, I have no idea. That's your job. Now, are you two going to be good and keep this to yourselves, and that means you don't ever actually speak of this again, only use it to guide your research, or am I going to have to have you two Obliviated?" The Ravenclaws shared a look, then nodded.

"No need to have us Obliviated, Potter. Honestly, I understand why you would keep something like this under wraps. We'll keep your secret." Harriet nodded, and smiled.

"Thank you, Patil. Just understand, that if word gets out, I know who let it out, and Slytherins know how to get our revenge." With a final smirk, Harriet stood, and was quickly lost amongst the stacks. Su and Padma turned to look at the remaining Slytherin at the table.

"Tracey…is Potter always like that?" Tracey stifled a giggle.

"Su, if she isn't like that, she's much worse. Now, we have a focus on our research, let's get to it."

**00000**

Harriet Potter was nearing her wit's end.

Between Quidditch, controlling her dealings in Slytherin, remaining up to date on her information networks, and regular class work, not to mention having to avoid Lockhart at any cost, she had precious little time to call her own. And, on top of it all, the petrifications continued. Before Christmas, a Ravenclaw Prefect was found petrified, lying in a pool of water left in the hall by Peeves. The first week after the winter hols, a first year Gryffindor by the name of Colin Creevy was found, frozen with his eye to his ever-present camera.

And then there were the messages that appeared on the walls.

Harriet absently chewed on her lip. 'The Heir of Slytherin…there isn't anyone in Slytherin that would dare to call themselves Salazar's heir. I need to find out what the bloody hell is going on here. And debunk these rumors that name me the Heir. It's not good for me in the long run.' Her train of thought was derailed when she had to dodge a Bludger.

Said Bludger had been inordinately focused on her for the entirety of the game. And neither Crabbe nor Goyle seemed to be very concerned with helping her with the issue. Rolling to keep an eye on the errant ball, Harriet swore as she saw the Ravenclaw Seeker suddenly shoot off. Harriet followed instinctively, searching for the Snitch. She had seen before the game that her opponent was on a rather old Golden Arrow. Harriet knew that her 2001 could reach a top speed nearly half again that of her rival's broom.

In her haste to get to the Snitch, Harriet forgot two rather important things. One, the Nimbus 2001 had stability issues near its top speed. Two, there was a Bludger that was rather obsessed with her today. Both of these things bit her in the arse at the exact same time.

The Snitch was less than a meter in front of her, but nearly five below her. Harriet pulled into a dive, reaching for the flying, golden ball. Her broom shuddered beneath her, causing her to early loose her balance. At that same moment, the Bludger smashed into her side.

As Harriet was forcibly removed from her broom, the coldly calculating part of her mind realized that she was roughly twelve meters from the ground. She heard the entire crowd gasp, and briefly saw the Ravenclaw Seeker falter. She also saw that the Snitch was still below her, roughly in her flight path.

Summoning her resolve, Harriet narrowed her eyes, and focused her entire being on the golden ball. It changed directions, flying back upwards, and Harriet swore. For a brief moment, everything slowed to a crawl. The Snitch flew upwards, just past her head as she fell.

Harriet spun in midair, reaching behind her and snatching the small, winged ball out of the air. The Slytherin section of the stands began to rise to their feet, and break into cheers. The Ravenclaw seeker's face was etched in confusion and disbelief. Harriet didn't bother to turn around again to watch the snowy ground rise up to meet her. She smirked to herself, and for a moment the thought crossed her mind that it was ok, she had another excellent broom.

Then everything went black.

**00000**

Harriet groaned to herself as she awoke. Blinking her eyes open, Harriet recognized the Hospital Wing. Seeing her glasses on a table to the side, she reached over and grabbed them, putting them back on before calling for the nurse. After all, Harriet mused, there is no reason to give away secrets.

After she was released to go to dinner, Harriet pondered to herself, in what she refused to call moping.

'One day. I'm out for one day, and everything goes arse over teakettle. Oh Merlin…Tracey…'

Sadness turned to rage, and Harriet slammed her fist into the wall. 'I need to get to the bottom of the Heir of Slytherin nonsense, and figure out what is causing these petrifications. And, by Salazar, I'm going to stop this.'

**00000**

It was after midnight in the middle of March, and Harriet Potter was in the Restricted Section of the library. She let out a long sigh, and barely resisted slamming the book closed. Harriet pulled a sheet of parchment from her robes, and scratched another name from the list. There were three books left to dig through. Sighing again, she left in search of the next tome.

'A basilisk. There is a bloody basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. What in the name of Merlin am I supposed to do about a basilisk? All the roosters that Hagrid had are dead. Whoever is controlling this thing knew the only weakness, and has taken care of it. I need something else, something to stop these attacks. Something different, less direct…' Harriet found the next book on her list, _Magical Beasts and Familiars_, and sat down to read.

An hour later, Harriet emerged from the library, a ream of parchment in hand, one filled with more questions than answers.

At breakfast the next morning, Blaise and Daphne shared a concerned look across the table as Harriet stood and left the room barely halfway through the meal. The blonde sighed deeply.

"Blaise…she's been like this ever since that Quidditch match nearly six weeks ago. She barely sleeps…it's like she's blaming herself for what's happening here this year…" Blaise shook his head.

"I doubt Harri's losing sleep over the likes of Colin Creevy. Hermione and Tracey, however, likely hit her much closer to home. Especially Tracey. I mean, Tracey was in the library that day researching on clues Harri herself supplied. She's taken the research over completely. She took the notes Tracey had complied with Patil and Li right after she got out of the hospital wing. Ever since, my sources tell me she spends undue amounts of time in the library during the day, and the Restricted Section at night, with the help of a certain cloak.

"And now she needs NEWT level Ancient Runes and Arithmacy notes? I don't like this, Daphne. Harriet is keeping this far too close to her vest. Last year, when we got into a spot of trouble, she kept us abreast of her plans and the situation. Now, she barely tells us anything. Something has to give, and at this rate, it's going to be Harriet, whether she wants to or not." Daphne nodded mutely, her breakfast forgotten. The blonde girl stared at her plate for a moment, then shook her head.

"I've already lost my best friend to this mysterious monster hiding in the Chamber of Secrets. I'm not losing Harri too. Blaise, get the notes she wants. Once you have them, give them to me, and I'll corner Harri, make her talk to us again." Blaise nodded, and met Daphne's determined gaze equally.

**00000**

Before Daphne could corner her friend, Harriet caught her two friends on their way to dinner and told them to meet her on the second floor after the meal, before walking off towards the Grand Staircase. The two shared a look, and turned to follow her away from the Great Hall. They headed straight for their standard empty classroom on the second floor, and found Harriet already there, pacing at the back of the room. The dark haired girl spun at the sound of the door opening, and let out an exasperated sigh when she recognized her friends.

"You know, I wanted you two to actually go to dinner so I had time to get my thoughts in order. I needed that half hour. Oh well, you're here now, grab a chair, you can get the jumbled, sleep deprived version of Harriet Potter. Merlin's beard, I'm tired. I mean, of course I'm tired. I've averaged about eight hours of sleep a week for nearly six." Harriet paused in her pacing and turned to look at her friends. Neither Daphne nor Blaise doubted her claim about her sleep schedule. Her eyes were half closed, rimmed in dark rings. Her normal upright posture was gone in favor of a heavy slouch. Daphne noticed that her hair looked like it hadn't been properly washed in a week, Quidditch practice and all. Suddenly, Harriet shook her head roughly, blinking rapidly.

"Right. Plans. Chamber of Secrets. Ancient Monster. Uninformed friends. Fix that." She shook her head again, and Blaise saw her stifle a yawn. "Ok. So, after Hermione was petrified, Tracey, along with Padma Patil and Su Li, Hermione's friends in Ravenclaw, were researching what could be causing these petrifications. It was fruitless for a time. Then, I gave the three a nudge, telling them I'm a Parselmouth and about the voice I heard on Halloween. Then, apparently, Tracey got hit with a wave of insight right before the Slytherin-Ravenclaw Quidditch match that cost me my Nimbus 2001. I went back to see her in the Hospital Wing a couple days later, and found a page of a book curled in her hand. She figured it out. The monster in the Chamber of Secrets? A Basilisk. Their gaze is deadly…if seem directly. But, no one has seen it straight on. Hermione saw it through that ghost. Creevy through his camera. That Ravenclaw prefect, what's her name, Clearwater, she was found in a pool of water, I bet she just saw the reflection. And Tracey was found with a mirror in her hand. Once she figured out what this monster was, she was checking corners with it, and saw the reflection.

"So I've been researching the mighty basilisk. And I'll be damned if the thing doesn't have any exploitable weaknesses. Its single large flaw is its deadly aversion to the crowing of a rooster. Well, whoever is controlling the thing knows that, and has already killed all of Hagrid's roosters. I checked. I went down to Hagrid's last night to ask about his roosters, and see if he knew anything else about basilisks. Well, I didn't so much get to ask him, because he was arrested. Seems that the Chamber was opened once before in recent memory, and Hagrid was blamed for it then. He did, however, give me the lovely advice to follow the spiders. And let me tell you, I regret following that advice deeply. I've never had an issue with spiders, there were enough of them in my cupboard growing up, but an entire colony of acromantula is an entirely different story. The master of the colony is a former pet of Hagrid's, a surprisingly intelligent bloke that goes by Aragog. Seems that Hagrid raised him from an egg while a student, around the same time that the Chamber was being opened. Aragog got blamed for being the monster in the Chamber, actually. But I digress. Turns out, three years ahead of Hagrid is school there was a Slytherin named Tom Riddle. Prefect that year, Head Boy the next. Aragog reckons that Riddle was the one that actually opened the Chamber then, he actually told Hagrid that he was the last remaining Heir of Slytherin.

"Well, Tom Riddle graduated in 1945. There is no way he himself is opening the Chamber now. That leaves us with two options. Either Tom Riddle is possessing someone, or there is some other third Parselmouth in the school. Which brings me to why I need the Runes notes. It's my best guess that the basilisk in the Chamber was put there by Salazar himself, and bound in some sort of bloodline familiar ritual so that the bond passed down to his heirs. In either the possession scenario or the random third Parselmouth scenario, being a Parselmouth myself, I figure if its current master is dealt with somehow, I could use the familiar ritual to bind the basilisk to myself, assuming I can't find a way to actually kill the thing. Either way, the attacks stop, and if I can come out with a basilisk familiar at the end, awesome for me, although Hedwig would likely be mad at me. Anyway, I found the ritual in the Restricted Section, but I need help understanding the runes. Aside from that, the main issue is where the Chamber actually is. I have…no…"

Harriet suddenly trailed off, chewing her lip at staring into space. After a moment she snapped back into focus.

"I take that back. I think I do know where the entrance is. At least, I have an idea. I'll need to ask one of the ghosts a couple questions tomorrow. Anyway, once I know for sure where the entrance is, we can regroup and get a real plan for taking this thing down solidified." Harriet attempted to stifle another yawn, and failed completely. "But first…I might sleep for a week or so. In the right hand drawer of the teacher's desk over there is the written copy of all of my research on the basilisk, the familiar ritual, and Tom Riddle. I acknowledge that I likely haven't made too much sense just now, so I'll leave that there for you two. And I'm really sorry I've been a miserable shut in the last few weeks…somewhere along the line when Tracey got petrified I let my inner Gryffindor take over and I felt I had to do everything on my own, right this second. Not my proudest moment. And neither would falling asleep standing up right now, so I'm going to try to get back down to the dungeons before I collapse completely. Good night you two, Daph, make sure I actually wake up tomorrow in time to shower before class. Thanks, love." Harriet slowly made her way out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Neither Blaise nor Daphne spoke for several long minutes, both trying to process the enormity of the information Harriet had just given them.

Eventually, Blaise slowly stood from his perch on a desk, and walked to the front of the room. Grabbing the several large scrolls from the drawer, he turned to Daphne.

"Do you want to go over this with me? We could probably make sense of it better together." Daphne just stood and pulled her chair up to the teacher's desk. She looked at Blaise, a wry grin on her face.

"Notes will help too, instead of Harriet just ranting it all at us in an extremely unorganized manner. I would say we should have gone to dinner, but I fear if we had, Harriet would have been asleep the time we got here." Blaise just nodded, and laid the first scroll out on the table.

**00000**

The next evening Draco Malfoy was holding court in the Slytherin Common Room.

"My father has finally gotten that Muggle lover Dumbledore suspended as Headmaster. It happened just this afternoon. And now with him gone, we have the opportunity to get a real Headmaster in this school, one that can recognize that these attacks are a good thing. After all, the world would be much better off without all the Mudbloods polluting it. Maybe my father himself could get the job. He would certainly turn this school around."

In the corner, Harriet just tuned Draco out, concentrating on the notes in front of her.

'Dumbledore is gone? Well, there goes plan B. Looks like plan A is all I have now, and I don't understand what exactly this ritual entails. I hope Daphne and Blaise can find something to blind the basilisk soon. Now that Dumbledore is gone, the attacks could start again. I'm running out of time.'

**00000**

Everything came to a head the third week of April.

Harriet was walking back to the dungeons after Quidditch practice when she was pulled into an empty classroom. Turning around as the door closed, she saw the Weasley twins, worry and grief etched into their faces. Harriet barely had time to raise an eyebrow before they began to speak.

"Listen, Harriet…"  
"Dear, Harriet…"

"You're a good little Slytherin."

"One of the best, really."

"The only one we like, that's for sure."  
"You also have an alarming tendency to know everything."

"Quite true."

"Do you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"You see, our favorite sister…"  
"She is our only sister."

"Quite right, only female Weasley in seven generations."  
"Our dear Ginny seems to have been abducted."  
"Taken, stolen, brought down to the Chamber of Secrets."  
"We realize charging into danger is a rather Gryffindor trait."

"And we understand if you're reluctant to go yourself."  
"But we need to do what we can to save our sister."

"Mum would never forgive us if we let Ginny die."  
"Neither would Charlie."

Harriet held up a hand to forestall any more banter. She chewed her lip for a moment, then looked at each twin in turn.

"Fred, George, I will answer your question if you answer one of my own. Do you two know of a spell that could blind someone?" The twins shared a look.

"Absolutely."

"Though we don't see the relevance."  
"_Conjuctivis_ is the incantation you're looking for."  
"Too right. Aim for the eyes."

The twins fell silent as a smirk emerged on Harriet's face.

"Excellent. Now, I do, in fact, know where the Chamber of Secrets hides. Unfortunately for you two, not just anyone can enter, you need to be a Parselmouth to open the entrance. Unfortunately for me, I am a Parselmouth, the only one in the school other than whoever has been opening the Chamber all year. Now, you two have been really helpful to me. I don't have many friends, but you two certainly are. If your sister is down there, well, I guess I'll have to play the Gryffindor and save her myself. Thanks for the curse, really. Now, don't tell anyone about this meeting. Tell no one I'm going down to the Chamber. Now, I need to get to the dungeons to prepare. I do hope I will see you two later." With a final wave, Harriet walked calmly from the room, leaving two shell-shocked Weasleys behind her. After a pregnant, silent moment, one turned to the other.

"I believe we have been underestimating our favorite Slytherin."  
"Indeed, brother. We truly have."

"You know, brother, with someone like her in that house, I wonder if we shouldn't have listened to the Hat when it told us we could do well in Slytherin ourselves.

"No, I think we made the right choice. Not only do we now follow in the great footsteps of the Marauders as we prank the snakes, but we also get to be very secretly sneaky."  
"Not to mention that whole bit about not disappointing the whole family."

"There is that, yes."

**00000**

Under her Invisibility Cloak, Harriet made her way back up from the dungeons to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hearing footsteps, she quickly ducked behind a suit of armor, only to watch in amusement as she saw her Defense Professor walking quickly towards the Entrance Hall, the trunks of his personal belongings floating behind him. Harriet was barely able to stop herself from muttering something pithy.

'I knew from the first class that man was a fraud. And the things that Tracey and Hermione did to their DADA notes give me nightmares…'

Soon enough, Harriet found herself in the second floor girls' loo. Ignoring the crying coming from the stalls, she walked straight over to the broken sink. Sure enough, on the side of the tap, there was a small engraved snake. Shaking her head at Salazar Slytherin's decision making, Harriet bent down and focused on the snake.

"_Open up."_

At her command, the sinks began to part on their own accord, revealing a rather large, dark hole in the floor. Harriet peered down the tube, reluctance etched on her face. 'I can't see Salazar just jumping down a hole.' On a whim, she hissed again.

"_Stairs?"_ A great, resounding nothing emitted from the hole. After a moment, she tried again.

"_Take me down?"_ Immediately, Harriet was whisked off her feet by some invisible force, and guided down the long tunnel. After nearly a minute, she slowed down, and was placed carefully back on her feet. Harriet eyed the dark cavern in front of her with trepidation. 'This is far too Gryffindor for me, really. I really wish I had another option.' Swallowing loudly, she ran over the steps to the familiar ritual in her mind as she gingerly stepped into the darkness.

Meanwhile, in the Slytherin Common Room, Blaise and Daphne, holding identical letters in their hand, couldn't find any words to describe what was going through their heads. Daphne read the letter again, as though hoping the content would change on her sixth time reading it.

"_Dear Friend,_

_Everything has come to a head, and I have the information I need. Within moments of you reading this letter, I will be entering that secret chamber we talked about. There is a life on the line, and I'm out of time to plan. Plan B is shot to hell, but I understand enough of Plan A to be reasonable confident I can accomplish it. _

_The entrance lies in a haunted bathroom. Only reveal that if the goblins contact you in regards to my will. If they do, further instruction will come from them. Blaise, Daphne, once Tracey recovers, I am confident you three can continue without me. Don't let our work go to waste._

_I do hope I shall see you shortly._

_H.L.P."_

Blaise, after reading his own copy again, finally found his voice, and summed up the situation the only way he could.

"…Fuck…"

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**AN:** Dear gods, I can't write Quidditch to save my life. I'm really sorry about that.

As usual, questions, comments, cries of anguish, and judgmental dismissals of my skills as a writer can be submitted to me via the box below. Whatever your initial reactions, please let me hear them.

~ExaltedChaos


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: **I still don't own anything.

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Harriet Potter stood, under her Invisibility Cloak, in front of a huge, snake encrusted door. For the second time that day, she questioned the decision making of her House's founder. She hissed at the door to open, and winced at the screeching noise it made as it began to unlock itself. Realizing that anyone else in there now knew she was there, she removed the Cloak and stuffed it back into her satchel. Before the door opened, she checked to make sure that her wand was safely tucked into her sleeve and the silver dagger was in its place on her hip.

"Of course everything is in place," Harriet scolded herself. "I've checked eight times now since I left Myrtle's bathroom."

The last of the locks on the giant door slid into place, and it swung inwards, revealing the Chamber of Secrets. Harriet's eyes were drawn to three things. First, the large, and rather ugly, bust of what she assumed was Salazar Slytherin at the end of the Chamber. Second, the red haired girl lying, unnaturally still in front of the statue. Third, what looked to be a boy about 16 years old, one that seemed to have a rather fuzzy outline. Said boy was watching her curiously as she stepped over the threshold.

"Hmm…Young, long black hair, Slytherin robes, you must be Miss Harriet Potter. Curious…I wonder how it is that you are a Parselmouth? I am the last of Slytherin's line. And yet, here you are, just walking into the Chamber of Secrets." The dark haired boy shook his head. "No matter. You are rather too late, you see. Miss Weasley is very nearly dead. And, once she dies, I will be truly reborn. But first, let's see if you can survive more than a Killing Curse." He turned back toward the statue and bowed low as he hissed.

"_Speak to me Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four!"_

The mouth on the statue began to open, revealing a dark passage. Harriet's eyes went wide as she realized what the boy, Tom Riddle she thought, was doing. She pulled her wand, aiming into the darkness. Riddle, still facing the statue, hissed again.

"_Come! Monster of Slytherin, kill this interloper!"_ Harriet heard the sounds of scaled moving against stone. On a whim, she hissed herself.

"_Stop!"_ Riddle laughed to himself.

"Foolish girl! Parselmouth you may be, but the basilisk will only listen to the Heir of Slytherin! _Kill the False Speaker!"_ Harriet waited as long as she dared, then shouted a curse into the darkness.

"Conjuctivis!" A flash of orange burst from her wand, into the dark tunnel. The curse impacted, and Harriet heard the still invisible basilisk shriek in outrage.

"_The__ Falssse__ Ssspeaker hasss blinded me!"_ Riddle turned back to Harriet, raising Ginny's wand in his hand. A bolt of yellow flew, and Harriet found herself falling backwards, her wand sailing across the room. Riddle's face was twisted in rage.

"How dare you harm Slytherin's great beast? _Find her. You can still kill her. Smell her, hear her, and eat her." _Harriet, suddenly wandless, scrambled to her feet, and dashed into a side passage. Behind her, she could hear the basilisk following her, and Riddle still speaking.

"Well, you are a Slytherin, aren't you Potter? You knew what to expect down here, didn't you? You had a plan. Well, you're plans end here. I'm going to kill you, Potter. And this time, nothing will stop me."

Harriet chewed on her lip as she ran. 'Ok…Riddle, or whoever he is, isn't really alive…I need to find a way to stop him from becoming that way, now that I'm wandless. Wait, this time? Let's see how much he likes to talk…'

"What do you mean, this time, Riddle?" She heard the boy laugh.

"You've already sussed out my name, huh? Ginny's told me a lot about you, I've heard about your cunning, but this is actually almost impressive. My full name is Tom Marvolo Riddle, after my filthy Muggle father. But you know me by another name, Potter." Harriet stumbled and fell, her mind racing. She was actually tempted to laugh.

"I wonder if I should tell the world about your passion for anagrams, Riddle. Really, taking your name and spelling 'I am Lord Voldemort?' I've seen more creative Hufflepuffs." Somewhere in the back of her mind, Harriet berated herself for further antagonizing the shade of Voldemort that was currently controlling the basilisk that was trying its damnedest to kill her. However, another part of her mind knew that she had to keep the young man talking, and hopefully not thinking clearly. Another, more cynical part of her mind thought that she might as well antagonize him, as her situation couldn't get much worse. So she continued. "You know, seeing how my parents named me, I could have followed in your anagram loving footsteps if I had been born a boy. Sure, nothing as melodramatic as yours, but what do you think about 'Pyjamas the Terror'?" Riddle responded with a snarl. Harriet was mildly impressed by the acoustics of the Chamber.

"You will not live to speak to anyone, Potter! Ginny Weasley has spent the entire year pouring her heart out into my diary. Soon, I will completely absorb her soul, and when she finally dies, I will kill you myself!" Harriet's eyes narrowed.

'A diary…whatever, that diary, wherever it is, must be the key. And if this diary is the artefact at work here, then Ginny likely still has it on her person somewhere. Ok, back to the main Chamber, and don't get eaten by a basilisk.' With that final morbid thought, Harriet set off through the tunnel again, trying to work her way back to the main chamber. Behind her, she heard the basilisk sliding through in her footsteps, hissing angrily. An idea formed in the young witch's mind as she found an exit to the main room. Reaching into her satchel, she grabbed hold of her Invisibility Cloak, and hid in a bend just outside the opening, waiting for the giant snake. For a moment, the only sounds in the Chamber of Secrets were the scraping of scales against stone and the dripping of water.

Then, there was an explosion of movement. The great snake burst back into the main chamber, mouth open to strike. The shade of Tom Riddle saw his young nemesis dive away from the bite, but then his line of sight was blocked by the snake coming between the two.

Harriet took her chance. Once Riddle couldn't see her, she threw the cloak over her. She knew that the snake, blinded as it was, wouldn't be fooled, but Riddle would be, at least enough to not waste his strength trying to curse her for the moment. Fortuitously for her, the lunge of the basilisk had also separated Riddle from Ginny Weasley. Hurrying over, Harriet found a small diary, black and nondescript, clutched in the girl's hands. Quickly prying it out, Harriet began to slowly sneak back over to the mouth of the great serpent as it searched for its prey anew. As she rounded the head, she saw Riddle scanning the room, not unlike a Seeker, trying to find her. Taking her chance, Harriet hissed low, so that only the basilisk heard.

"_Pssst. I'm right here."_

The great head turned sharply towards her, its mouth opening wide. Summoning all of her Quidditch reflexes, Harriet's arm shot into the snake's mouth, diary in hand.

As his basilisk turned and coiled, all Tom Riddle saw was an arm appear from the air, his precious diary in its hand. He brought the Weasley girl's wand to bear as quickly as he could, but before a spell could pass his lips, the arm slammed the black book down onto a fang.

The snake, feeling something in its mouth, slammed its mouth closed. The motion drove the fang cleanly through the diary. However, Harriet also realized that her Seeker practice emphasized snapping her hand forward, not backwards. As she withdrew her arm, a smaller fang caught the bottom of her left forearm, gouging a deep line into the flesh.

All three conscious beings in the Chamber of Secrets collapsed to the stone floor, screaming in agony. Tom Riddle felt himself come apart, his soul anchor all but dissolving from the basilisk venom. Harriet Potter felt that same deadly force surge into her veins, burning a path to her heart. The snake felt the mental pain of a severing familiar bond as the shade of Riddle dissipated.

Vaguely, Harriet saw her goal realized. The diary broke apart, ink pouring from the pages. The shade of her enemy fell to the ground, and dissipated into mists with a final, unbelieving scream. But her mind could no longer actively process such things. The pain she was in was unfathomable. The burning in her arm, blazing through her blood, made the Curiactus Curse seem like a Tickling Jinx. A single thought still made its way through her conscious mind. _Familiar_. The complex runes and careful precautions had been seared out of her memory, but the thought of the ritual itself remained. Drawing strength from unknown sources, Harriet rolled and crawled to the place, barely a meter away, where her wand had landed after she had been disarmed. Clutching the wood in her sole remaining working hand, Harriet stood shakily, and staggered to the side of the basilisk that still sibilantly screamed its pain.

Through the pain, Harriet recalled the barest basics of the ritual. Determined to see this through, she tucked her wand into her belt, and drew the ceremonial silver dagger from its sheath. The blade traced the wound on her forearm, coating itself in her blood. With great effort, Harriet drove the small blade between the scales of the basilisk, allowing her blood to mix with the snake's own, just as the basilisk's deadly venom coursed through her own body. Drawing her wand, Harriet managed to speak a single word.

"…Famil..iarus…"

Her mind shook with the spell, and the burning in her arm changed slightly. She fell to the stone floor, and a single, pleading whisper escaped her lips as she lost consciousness.

"…protect….us…"

Then, everything was black.

**00000**

Harriet Potter groaned as she was shaken awake. There was a voice above her, quiet, but urgently pleading her to wake up. Slowly, she realized that unlike when she woke up after her other near-death experiences, she was not comfortable. She was lying on something hard and unyielding, and unmistakably wet. Groaning again, she weakly tried to push away the arms shaking her as she eased her eyes open. The first thing Harriet saw was the crying, and rather terrified face of Ginny Weasley. All at once, the memories of her trip down into the Chamber of Secrets to rescue that very Gryffindor crashed into her mind. Suddenly wide awake, Harriet sat up, and saw what likely what had Ginny so terrified. Slytherin's personal familiar, the monster of the Chamber of Secrets, the millennia old basilisk had coiled around the two girls. Suddenly, there was a crawling, burning pain in her left forearm. Pulling up her tattered sleeve, Harriet looked at what had been a fatally poisoned wound the last time she was conscious. Over her shoulder, Ginny gasped. Both girls stared at Harriet's newest scar. As red as the famous lightning bolt over her right eye, there was now a clear snake on her forearm. There was only one explanation that made any sense to the Girl-Who-Lived. She cleared her throat, then without looking at the red head kneeling behind her, she hissed.

"_Do you listen to me now?"_ Ginny, intimately familiar with Parseltongue after her possession by Tom Riddle, gasped loudly. Harriet ignored her, and waited for the basilisk to respond. When it did it sounded almost…peaceful.

"_I do, Ssspeaker. You bonded usss, after you killed my last master. I have not been told to protect in many yearsss…not sssince Father…" _Harriet let out a sigh of relief. 'Well, that explains how I survived. The protective runes weren't used, so the ritual bonded us on a deep level. I'm likely just immune to basilisk venom now.' Harriet turned around to face Ginny, who was rapidly heading toward hyperventilation.

"Weasley…Ginny…listen, everything is ok. I came down here to save you, actually. Gred and Forge are good friends of mine, when they told me you had been taken down here, I gave into my inner Gryffindor and came down to save you. I realize you haven't had the best introduction to the language of snakes, but you should be glad I speak it. It is, after all, the only way to open the Chamber of Secrets." The Gryffindor's breathing switched directly from one end of the spectrum to the other.

"You…came for me? Harriet Potter faced a basilisk for…me?" Harriet looked into the other girl's eyes, and had to resist rolling her own. The amount of hero-worship she saw there put Colin Creevy to shame.

"Yes, Ginny. I came down here, and quite nearly died in the process, to save you. Granted, there was also the motive to stop any further attacks from happening, as two of my good friends have been petrified this year. And, beyond the altruism, my plan for this adventure was to come out the other side with a basilisk familiar, which I seem to have accomplished." She broke into a wry grin. "Not to mention, your brothers are more useful to me when they aren't grieving for their dead sister. Speaking of which, it must be nearly morning by now, we should get out of here, stop your family and my friends from going spare." Harriet turned to the giant snake.

"_Alright, we're ok now. Head on back to what I assume is your nest back there. I'll came back in a few days. Actually, before you go anywhere, answer me a question. That fatal eye-contact thing, can you turn that off? I would hate to have to keep cursing you." _Harriet nearly fell over, as the giant snake seemed to laugh to itself.

_Misstress, as my bonded, I cannot harm you. My gaze cannot hurt you, or anyone else you command me to not harm."_ Harriet nodded.

"_Excellent. Go on then, and don't kill the girl I came to save as you go. I'll be back when I have some free time to discuss the future."_ The great snake hummed its agreement, and slithered away, back into the dark tunnel in the mouth of the statue of Salazar Slytherin. For a moment, there was only the sound of scales against stone filling the silence. After the basilisk was gone, Harriet turned her attention to the Gryffindor.

"Ok, Ginny. Listen to me. I'll get you out of here, and we'll head up to Professor Dumbledore's office. Just let me do the talking. I'll explain what happened, and how you aren't responsible for what happened this year. However, I don't want the fact I have a basilisk at me beck and call to be common knowledge. So just listen to what I tell the Headmaster, and stick to that story, alright?" Ginny nodded weakly.

A few minutes later, the two girls arrived at the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. It took one look at the two and leapt aside immediately. At the top of the stairs, the door was already open. The office was rather more full of people than Harriet expected. Dumbledore was sitting behind the large desk, as usual. Off to one side, however, the entire Weasley clan filled the room. Before the two girls even crossed the threshold, the reactions shattered the somber peace of the room.

Harriet found herself pushed off to one side as the older red heads converged onto the youngest. Dumbledore, still behind his desk, was the only one to turn to regard Harriet, the twinkle in his eyes nearly blinding.

"Ah, Ms. Potter. I was unaware you had left your dormitory this evening." The words were not loud, but the sole Slytherin in the room suddenly found herself at the focus of everyone's attentions. It made her rather uncomfortable. She cleared her throat in what she hoped wasn't a horrible awkward manner.

"That was my intention, Professor. I didn't want anyone to try to follow me, as I knew what I was up against, but others might not have. Given what transpired in the past few hours, I'm rather glad no one did follow me down there. It is quite likely they would have wound up dead."

"Indeed…Ms. Potter, would you be so kind as to tell us what did happen in the previous hours?" Looking around, Harriet saw that she had the undivided attention of the Weasley clan. She resisted the urge to clear her throat again.

"The full story really starts several months ago, Professor. After Hermione was petrified, I started to research, trying to figure out what really happened. A couple of her friends from Ravenclaw, and Tracey as well, were helping me. But the research was fruitless for quite some time. However, this past January, Tracey finally put the pieces together. During the Quidditch game against Ravenclaw, she went to the library, I assume. Of course, once I woke up after my unfortunate Bludger encounter, she had been petrified as well. Later, when I was visiting her in the Hospital Wing, I saw that she had the page of a book clutched in her hand around the handle of the mirror she was holding. The monster of the Chamber of Secrets, sir, was a basilisk. It all fit. None of the victims this year, save perhaps the ghost that was found with Hermione, looked into its eyes directly. They saw either a reflection of its gaze, or through a camera, or through a ghost. Spiders were fleeing from the castle in droves. Hagrid's roosters, the only true weakness of a basilisk, were all killed.

"But finding out what the monster actually was, well, that was only the beginning. At that time, I had no idea where the Chamber was, who could possibly be controlling the basilisk, or any idea of how to stop the attacks. What I needed was to talk to someone that was in the castle fifty years ago, the last time the Chamber was opened. I ended up talking to a few. Interestingly enough, none of them were exactly human, and I found the first two by accident.

"First, I went to talk to Hagrid, because as I learned last year with Fluffy, he tends to know a great deal about various dangerous creatures. However, our talk was cut short by him being arrested, actually. All he was able to tell me was to 'Follow the spiders'. It was my only lead, so I did. I would up at the center of the acromantula colony in the Forbidden Forest. Turns out, the master of the colony was an old pet of Hagrid's from when he was a student here. Also incredibly well spoken for a giant spider.

"Nonetheless, with what I learned from him, I talked to Myrtle, the ghost that haunts the second floor girls' loo. She all but gave me a map to the entrance of the Chamber. With that out of the way, I needed to find a way to not die myself when confronted by a basilisk. Fred and George actually ended up having my solution for that one. Lovely spell, the Conjuctivis Curse. And, well, when they told me that their sister had been taken down into the Chamber of Secrets, and all of my questions had been answered, I knew what I had to do. So I did. And now the crisis is over, and the threat of further attacks is nonexistent." Looking around, Harriet saw a number of things in the various gazes still locked onto her. Dumbledore's eye twinkle had dimmed, he knew she wasn't telling the entire story. The Weasley parents and older brothers were projecting an incredible amount of awe and gratitude. The twins and Ginny were nearing hero-worship. Ron looked thankful, but rather distrusting, although Harriet suspected that was just because of the green and silver trim on her robes. Percy, for his part, looked torn between gratitude and horror at the amount of school rules she had just admitted to breaking. Harriet just smiled tiredly and waited.

After a moment, the Weasleys broke apart and swarmed the dark haired girl. After several minutes of teary "thank-you"s, the group of red heads departed through the fireplace. Taking a deep breath, Harriet closed the door to the office and sank into a chair, realizing that the Headmaster had more to discuss with her.

"Thank you, Harriet, for saving one of our own. Now, please help an old man by filling in the gaps of your earlier story." Harriet sighed, then became serious.

"Professor, I'm growing tired of this alarming trend of Voldemort trying to kill me once a year." Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up, and the twinkle in his eye vanished.

"Whatever do you mean?" Harriet reached into her satchel, and tossed the ruined diary onto the desk.

"That used to be the diary of Tom Riddle. Somehow, Ginny Weasley ended up with it. I have a suspicion that Lucius Malfoy was a player in that, but I have nothing to prove it. Regardless, for one reason or another, Ginny started writing in the diary. I'm unaware of the details, but there was a shade of Riddle within it, back from when he was a student. That shade began to possess Ginny, forcing her to open the Chamber, and release the basilisk that was bonded to the ancestral line of Slytherin. Apparently, the last remaining living decedent of that line was, in fact, Riddle. Thus, his Parseltongue ability. Regardless, this shade was using Ginny all year to do his bidding. And, the more she wrote in the diary, the stronger he got. Finally, he got to the point where he had enough power to fully drain Ginny and assume a physical form. That's why he had Ginny go down to the Chamber and lock herself in." Dumbledore nodded, but Harriet was able to see worry in his face.

"Yes, that explains how the Chamber was being opened, but why did you not go to a teacher with your information, like you did last year when you suspected the Philosopher's Stone was in danger?" Harriet sighed, regretting that she had to explain this part.

"The Chamber can only be opened with a password, spoken in Parseltongue. Going to a teacher was useless, given that I was the only one in the castle with that particular ability. And, before you ask, I have no idea how I attained the ability. I only know that I've had it for several years." Dumbledore nodded again. The worry had not left his face.

"So tell me, what exactly, happened to the basilisk? Did you manage to slay the beast?" Harriet chuckled.

"Me? Kill a millennia old basilisk? With all due respect, sir, I'm twelve. I'm honestly shocked that my Blinding Curse worked as well as it did. No sir, the basilisk yet lives. However, before Riddle managed to completely take form, I tricked the blinded basilisk into biting through the diary, as Riddle himself had mentioned several times that it was the key to his resurrection, and my research told me that basilisk venom is astoundingly powerful, and quite effective at destroying magical objects with even the strongest of protections. Once the shade was gone, Slytherin's monster had no living master. So I preformed a ritual to bind the creature to me, instead of the hereditary line of Slytherin. It worked quite well, and now the basilisk listens only to me. And since I'm not a sociopathic megalomaniac, I will not be ordering her to attack anyone. And, as I am the only one capable of opening the Chamber, no one can accidentally find her, either." Dumbledore furrowed his brow.

"My dear, how exactly did you find out about the familiar ritual, and how did you preform it?"

"I stumbled across it quite by accident while I was researching the basilisk in the Restricted Section. I even managed to borrow some NEWT-level Ancient Runes notes from one of the Ravenclaws so I could understand the mechanics of the ritual better. However, while I was getting the basilisk to destroy the diary for me, I was bitten, actually." Harriet rolled up her tattered sleeve to show the Headmaster her new scar. "A fang gouged my arm fairly deeply. I could feel the poison in my veins. I knew I didn't have time to set up the ritual correctly, what with the proper rune arrays and such. But, in my reading, those arrays really only serve to protect the caster in case something goes wrong. I was already dying. Nothing could get any worse, really. So, I figured I already had part of the basilisk in my veins, so some quick knife work managed to place some of my blood in its veins, and I cast the familiar spell. The spell certainly did its job, as I have a nearly 18 meter snake familiar currently living in the Chamber of Secrets. I passed out for a bit, but once I had woken up, the gouge on my arm had turned into this." Dumbledore sat back in his chair, deep in thought.

"And are you sure that the beast poses no threat to the school?" Harriet had to stifle a snort.

"Absolutely. Ginny and I both stared into her eyes not an hour ago, with nothing between us. And yet, we still live. Simply because I asked her not to harm us. Her current orders are to remain in the Chamber and don't hurt anyone. And really, I see no reason for that to change. However, should a drastic circumstance arise, having a pet basilisk is quite the card to have in hand, do you not agree?"

"Truly? The deadly gaze is a…choice, on the part of the basilisk?"

"So it seems. I was just as surprised when I was told that as you are now. I can only assume that no one researching basilisks in the past was a Parselmouth and had access to a basilisk of their own. She seemed amused, actually, that I had to ask the question."

"In that case, my dear, I believe that we shall simply count our blessings that you and Ms. Weasley both survived that horrible ordeal and let the matter rest. However, if you would consent to leading me to the Chamber of Secrets at a later point and potentially acting as a translator, I believe a conversation with this basilisk would be quite educational." Harriet merely smiled.

"I have no intention of ordering her around. I will, however, go down the Chamber later and ask my new friend if she would consent to an interview, as she is more than intelligent enough to make her own decisions. I will come see you afterword if she is inclined to talk to you." Harriet stood, straightening her skirt. "Now, I am quite tired. If that is all, I would dearly like to sleep, and perhaps prevent my friends from having an apoplexy from worry." Dumbledore smiled, though the twinkle in his eyes was muted.

"Of course, my dear. Do get some rest." Harriet smiled and nodded, then turned and exited the office, having no intent to ask her familiar about an interview.

'No, Dumbledore. I don't think she would like to talk to you. I'll keep her firmly away from your influence, thank you.'

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**AN:** Holy basilisk fight, Batman! I hope I didn't butcher it too badly, really.

As always, questions, comments, cries of anguish, and pleas for more (as applicable) can be submitted below.

~ExaltedChaos


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: **Geez…I'm really sorry this took so long. Real life got in the way. Unfortunately, it might happen again before everything settles down. I'll try my best to have the next chapter up by next weekend.

Also, I still don't own anything.

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Harriet Potter was woken early the next morning by irritation in her eyes. Grumbling to herself, she padded over to the bathroom and the row of sinks. Looking into the mirror Harriet's heart skipped a beat. The deep emerald eyes she had inherited from her mother were gone. In their place were bright yellow orbs with slits for pupils. Harriet braced herself against the sink as to not fall over.

'I've seen these eyes before…on a basilisk. The one I'm now...bound…to… Shite. Not using the protective runes probably saved my life, letting me live with basilisk venom in my veins, but now I'm taking on extra snake characteristics. Well, first, I need to get something to hide this…probably contact lenses with Glamour Charms. This summer I could replace them with Muggle ones, in case someone could see through Glamours.' Harriet shook her head, fighting a headache. 'I just hope this trend doesn't continue beyond my capability to hide it…'

With that final ominous thought, Harriet fetched her satchel and Invisibility Cloak, then left for the Owlry.

**00000**

One morning in mid-May, Harriet Potter realized something was wrong, although she couldn't immediately put her finger on it. Whilst in the shower, she realized that she couldn't smell her shampoo. Or anything else, for that matter. She sighed deeply, wondering what was wrong, and suddenly detected the missing smells around her. She frowned, pondering, until she remembered the morning a few weeks prior that her eyes had changed. She flicked her tongue experimentally, and her sense of smell returned as the newly forked tip briefly tasted air.

It was all she could do to not beat her head against the wall.

'Brilliant. Just bloody brilliant. Now I have a tongue to match my eyes. This is going to be much more difficult to hide. Alright, now I officially have to tell my friends that I'm turning into a snake.'

At breakfast, Harriet was conspicuously absent. When the morning post arrived, a brown school owl swooped down to the far end of the Slytherin table. The note was unsigned and short, but neither Blaise nor Daphne could mistake Harriet's sharp strokes.

_Fluffy. Five minutes._

Dark brown eyes met icy gray for a moment, then both owners stood and left the hall. Blaise led the way to the third floor, and down the corridor that had been forbidden the previous year. Daphne quietly unlocked the door she had entered to steal the Philosopher's Stone, and saw that Harriet was already there, waiting against the wall.

"So I'm slowly turning into a snake." Blaise and Daphne both stared incredulously. Harriet held up her hands in defense. "It's not like I planned it. I've told you two what happened in the Chamber. The basilisk bit me, I was dying quickly, and I preformed the familiar ritual without any of the protective rune arrays. Well…side effects of that are still showing up. What follows are a trio of Class 3 secrets." Harriet held up a single finger as she took her glasses off and stowed them into her bag. "One, the glasses are for show. The Healers at St. Mungo's last summer fixed my vision. Two, I currently am wearing contact lenses, charmed with a Glamour. Without them…" Harriet trailed off, and removed one of the lenses, revealing a yellow, snake-like eye. Both of her friends recoiled slightly. "Yeah, I know. This had happened by the time I woke up the next morning. Number three happened last night." In lieu of explanation, Harriet flicked her new, forked tongue in the air for a moment. "My normal sense of smell is gone, too. Still getting used to that bit. Any questions?" Blaise shook his head, but Daphne looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Harri…how, um, complete is this transformation going to be?" Harriet replaced her contact lens, then shook her head.

"No idea. I asked the basilisk this morning, she's clueless as well. Every day is an adventure, wondering what snake attribute is going to show up in my sleep next. The basilisk believes that I should stay mostly human, just take on some snake-like characteristics. The way things are going, I'm inclined to agree.

"Again, I repeat, I really don't want word getting out. Of course, if someone sees my tongue, the whole kneazle is out of the bag. But you guys don't have to worry about that. Just don't tell anyone. And if something else decides to happen, I'll let you know. The longer I can keep knowledge of my familiar under wraps, the better it is for everyone." Blaise nodded, smirking.

"You know, Harri, you're going to have to be pretty careful about choosing boyfriends now, considering that tongue of yours." Next to him, Daphne chortled, while Harriet's face flamed red. The dark haired girl muttered something rude as she pushed past her friends back into the hall, heading to class.

**00000**

The petrified students were revived in the third week of June. Tracey joined her friends in their revision of their exams, trying to learn the information she had missed, despite the fact she was exempt from her finals. This pursuit often led her to spend a great deal of time in the library with Hermione, who was doing much the same thing. Tracey was quite surprised to have complete notes, in her handwriting no less, from all of her classes while she had been petrified.

When asked, Harriet smiled, but said nothing, while Daphne and Blaise seemed surprised.

Later, Tracey also found notes about everything Harriet had done in her absence, also in her own handwriting. To compound her confusion, there were additional messages in the margins in Harriet's own sharp penmanship.

**00000**

Almost before they knew it, the four Slytherins found themselves on the Hogwarts express, heading back to London. Rather soon after the train left Hogsmeade, there was a knock on their compartment door. Through the window, Harriet could see two heads of identical red hair. Curious, she opened the door, allowing the Weasley twins inside. They handily ignored the three stares of suspicion, and turned to face the Girl-Who-Lived.

"Dear Harriet…"

"Our darling Harriet…"

"We would like to formally thank you."

"Well, as formal as we ever get, Fred."

"True enough, George."

"As George was saying, we feel the need to attempt to repay you for saving our second favorite little sister."

"Second favorite, Fred?"

"Of course, we agreed on this, Fred. Dearest Harriet is now our favorite little sister."

"Ah, yes, of course. How could I forget?"

As the twins carried on, the three stares of suspicion rapidly descended into disbelief. Harriet just looked tired.

"George, Fred," the dark haired girl pointed to each of them in turn, correctly, "Please do get to the point. We Slytherins have schemes to hatch." The two Gryffindors looked at each other and nodded.

"Indeed, Oh Great Snake." Harriet tried to not react, but felt her slit pupils widen beneath her contacts. "There is a certain artefact in our possession, one that we would like to bequeath to you. It is a small token of our infinite gratitude to our newest, and favorite, sister." Fred produced an old and folded sheet of parchment, and presented it to Harriet, who immediately handed it to Blaise, who in turn began to scan it for traps. The twins pretended to not notice. "We present the Marauder's Map. Tap it with your wand, saying 'I solemnly swear I am up to no good'. You won't even have to lie, really. A complete map of Hogwarts, albeit missing one Chamber of Secrets. However, it does show the current locations of every single person inside the castle." That caught the attentions of the four Slytherins. George smiled. "To clear the map back into old parchment, tap it again, saying 'Mischief Managed'. Knowing you, you might have to lie some about that. We have a feeling your particular brand of mischief won't be managed for several years after you graduate."

Harriet glanced at the now activated map in Blaise's lap, chewing her lip. After a moment, she appeared to make a decision.

"Fred, George, do you feel as though you still owe me for saving Ginny?" The twins both nodded, while Blaise smirked, seeing where she was going. Harriet smiled. "Then welcome to my information network. Or, more accurately, Blaise's. He truly runs the whole thing. Work out the details by owl over the summer. By the time Daphne's sister is sorted next year, I want you three to have a plan. Everything you know about the goings on of Hogwarts and her occupants goes to Blaise, or one of his other contacts. I also happen to know that you two sell some, shall we say, slightly questionable things?" The twins, not used to being completely outmaneuvered, blushed. "Don't worry, I'm not telling you to stop. Blaise does the same thing, and he deals in far more objectionable merchandise. Instead of managing your own supplies, just use ours. Your profits come back to me, and in exchange, I'll place you directly onto my payroll. You get steady income, and I get to know what you silly Gryffs are running around with. Also, you get to pay off your debt to me. Deal?" The twins glanced at each other, then nodded. Harriet smirked.

"Excellent. Now, do run along. Blaise shall contact you in a week or so." Once the twins had exited the compartment, Harriet held out a hand. "Blaise, do return my map." Wordlessly, the boy hand the parchment over, and Harriet got her first look at the Marauder's Map. It was very nearly a thing of beauty, despite the few persons occupying the castle. Harriet broke into a wide grin as she deactivated the map and stowed it away into her satchel.

"Blaise, I hope your instructions are clear, implicit though they may be?" He nodded.

"Absolutely. Bring Weasley and Weasley into the network, get them onto the payroll, and get them access to our stores of illicit goods." Daphne raised an eyebrow.

"Why those two?"

"Because, Daph, not only did they just give us a rather potent weapon, but Harri here owns their loyalty. And their Gryffs to boot, so not only do we not have to rely as much on Longbottom, but we don't have to worry about them double crossing us later. All in all, not a bad little scheme." The blond nodded, then turned to Harriet.

"And, Harri, you mentioned Astoria…are you planning to use her too?" Despite the slightly worried look on Daphne's face, Harriet merely shrugged.

"Depends on several things. Chief among them, where she gets Sorted, and her temperament, never having met her myself. As we get older, it will be harder for us to keep ears in the lower years of Slytherin. Your sister would be excellent for that. Not to mention, it would be beneficial for her to ally herself with us, considering the fact that following me is the best protection one can have in Slytherin at the moment.

"But really, I have no intent to use her any more than I use you, Daph. If she wants to help me, fantastic. If not, well, I will have to research other avenues." Daphne found that last statement to be just nebulous enough to take on an ominous quality.

A few minutes later, the snack cart came around, and conversation drifted into more mundane matters.

**00000**

Meanwhile, Arthur Weasley received a letter from the Daily Prophet, one he had never dared to expect.

**00000**

Nearly a fortnight later, Harriet received a letter from Blaise, along with a photo taken from the back pages of the Daily Prophet showing the Weasley family.

_Harriet,_

_Developing the twins into adequate agents of your will has hit a snag. Namely, they just departed for Egypt, of all places, for the entire summer, and said twins doubt their capability to pay for international owl postage. They'll be gone until the week before term starts in the fall._

_Annoyed and frustrated,_

_Blaise_

Harriet rolled her eyes at her friend's exasperation. 'If this is the biggest snag that happens this summer, I will be quite content.'

**00000**

The next day, breakfast was somber at the Davis household. The dark mood stemmed from the Daily Prophet that had arrived, announcing Sirius Black's escape from Azkaban. No one mentioned it aloud, but Harriet knew full well the personal significance of the escape to her.

'Sirius Black…by all accounts, he betrayed my parents to Voldemort, then murdered his friend and a dozen Muggles besides. He is the reason I grew up at the Dursley's. Everything fits. Then…why, exactly, is there no record of a trial, and why do I have a feeling no one but him knows the full story?' Harriet narrowed her eyes, her vertical pupils constricting as she stared at the picture occupying most of the front page. 'What he does now, I think, will be quite enlightening. A truly guilty man would flee the country. If he does not…then there is much more to the story than anyone knows.'

After breakfast, Richard Davis took the paper with him to work, and no mention of Sirius Black was made for the rest of the summer, at least around Harriet Potter.

**00000**

There was a large, black dog in Surrey. While no one could tell from its doggy expression, it was confused.

**00000**

On the morning of her thirteenth birthday, Harriet realized something was wrong with her. It was the height of the summer, but she could not seem to ever be warm enough. And as she got colder, she got more and more lethargic, to the point all she wanted to do was wrap herself in blankets and sleep, preferably in direct sun.

In the privacy of her bathroom, she flicked her tongue in annoyance. Suddenly, a thought struck her, and she stared at herself through the mirror. She was in process of putting her magical contacts in, and her reflection held two very different eyes, one emerald and one topaz. She flicked her forked tongue through the air unconsciously as her latest snake attribute suddenly made sense.

'Bloody hell…really? I spend the majority of the year in a castle in Scotland. And now I'm freaking cold-blooded, or at least close to it? Happy bloody birthday to me…'

Thankful that she was in a magical household, Harriet cast several strong Warming Charms on both her clothes and her person, and sighed in contentment as most of the lethargy passed with the additional heat.

The mistake, however, was that she grumbled to herself as she put in her last contact, thinking that this would be the last of her changes.

**00000**

There was still a large, black dog in Surrey. It was no longer confused, but deeply troubled instead. It left Surrey, its tail tucked between its legs.

**00000**

Over the next several days, Tracey and Harriet quietly experimented, trying to find just how complete her newest change was. The answer was, in short, very.

It was the early afternoon on 4 August. Harriet sat heavily in front of the fire she had lit in her room, and cursed vividly.

"Of all the rotten…awesome. Winter clothes year round, at least until I get really good at Warming Charms. Your mum is already giving me odd looks about the clothes I'm wearing." Tracey sighed.

"Harri…my parents really like you. I mean…you could tell them the truth." Harriet goggled, as though telling the truth was a novel concept. Tracey continued. "Look, I get you don't trust easily. And I know how bad it would be if news got out about this. But, I mean, you did just turn thirteen. You'll still be spending the holidays here for several years. I mean, my parents will probably find out eventually. Why not tell them up front, and get help?" Harriet chewed her lip.

"It would be a relief to not have to wear these contacts for a couple weeks…and to be able to smell things in public…" To accentuate her point, the dark haired girl flicked her forked tongue through the air before sighing deeply. "I guess you have a point. I am living here, more or less, for a while. Come on, I'm pretty warm now, let's go before I lose my nerve. This whole just telling the truth thing is making me uneasy."

**00000**

All in all, Harriet thought her revelation went over well. Johanna didn't look her in the eyes until the next morning, and Tracey would shake slightly at the sight for a week, but the elder Davis's were quite understanding, on the whole. And Richard, it turned out, was rather handy with Charms, and offered to help Harriet with her Warming Charms until school started back. And no one looked at her strangely for sitting in the sun outside while wearing her winter cloak in the middle of August.

**00000**

The morning of 1 September, Harriet shivered while she dressed. She dressed directly into her school robes, and quickly cast the Warming Charms she had been practicing for the last month. Like she had been for all of August, Harriet was incredibly thankful that Charms had always been her best subject. Under Richard's guidance, she had gotten quite proficient with several charms, Warming Charms most importantly. Since she had mastered the charm a week or so ago, she had been able to go about her days normally, regardless of her now cold blood. What relieved her the most was that she was able to make herself _too_ hot, which boded well for the Scottish winter she would be facing.

Sitting down to breakfast a few minutes later, Harriet greeted Tracey, and smiled softly when the girl didn't flinch from her yellow, slitted eyes. Tracey raised an eyebrow.

"Harri, shouldn't you be wearing your contacts today?" The dark haired girl sighed.

"Yeah, I know, Tracey. I'll put them in before we leave for the train. Actually…I might skip the contacts, and just Glamour my eyes myself." Pulling her wand from her sleeve, Harriet concentrated, then waved her wand over her face as she muttered under her breath. "So? How do I look?" Tracey grinned.

"Like you did when I met you." Harriet smirked.

"Thank Merlin. Those contacts were useful, but they did tend to give me headaches." Tracey goggled for a moment, thinking about how long her friend wore the lenses and yet never complained. Tracey's speculation was cut short as she heard her father swear. He was reading the Daily Prophet.

"Of all the irresponsible…I have about had it with Fudge. Dementors? At Hogwarts?" Both Tracey and her mother nearly fell from their chairs. Harriet, however, furrowed her brow. Recognizing the expression, Tracey looked at her friend.

"Harri…Dementors are the guards of Azkaban. They feed on fear, and tear away your positive emotions. Just by being near you, you have to relive your most horrific memories." Harriet dropped her gaze to her plate.

"It's because of Black, isn't it? He escaped, and everyone assumes he's going to come after me. Well, I happen to go to Hogwarts, so now everyone there has to deal with those horrible things." Harriet shook her head. "You know, I really wanted to try to get through a school year without a near death experience, but that seems pretty unlikely now, with Dementors on the grounds and Sirius Black on the loose. Well, I should make sure I have everything packed. Excuse me." With a nod towards the Davis family, she stood and walked calmly from the room, leaving silence in her wake.

**00000**

A large, black dog sat on the sidewalk, outside Charing Cross Station, and halfway tucked into an alley. Neither Harriet Potter nor the Davis family noticed the dog as they entered the Station.

**00000**

Remus Lupin was walking toward the back of the train, hoping to claim the rearmost compartment before any of the students. Given that the train did not leave for nearly an hour, he was surprised to find the compartment already occupied. Claiming the next compartment forward, he sat down to nap, when he suddenly realized just who he had just seen. Not just any black haired girl had eyes that shade of green.

As he nodded off, Remus never realized that Harriet school robes were trimmed in Slytherin colors, not Gryffindor.

**00000**

The train suddenly began to slow down, which made the four occupants of the last compartment look at each other in confusion. Blaise checked his watch.

"We're still probably two hours out of Hogsmeade." There was a moment of silence in the compartment as all four tried to find a reason why the train was stopping so early. From her positon by the window, Harriet noticed that the sky was getting dark, unnaturally quickly. Next to her, she saw Blaise shiver.

"Guys…is anyone else getting cold?" Out the window, Harriet briefly saw a shape in the sky, black against the dark sky. Remembering the conversation at breakfast, everything clicked. The word escaped her lips, unbidden.

"Dementors…" She chewed her lip for a moment. "Blaise, we saw that adult at the window before we left the station. He's probably close by. Find him." As Blaise left, Harriet pulled her wand from her sleeve, and quickly cast Warming Charms on her two friends, purposefully under powering them from what she used on herself.

The cold and the darkness continued to descend upon the train. Harriet felt the scar on her arm crawl, just before the lightning bolt over her right eye seemed to split open.

Her wand clattered as it fell to the floor, followed shortly by Harriet's knees. Her right hand clutched at the burning scar on her forearm, while the left pressed against her forehead. Her mind felt like it was being torn asunder. Unbidden, fragments of memories surfaced, of her mother pleading with Voldemort to spare her daughter's life before she died. Darkness threatened to envelop her completely, but Harriet felt another presence push back, hissing. 'The basilisk,' Harriet realized. 'We're bonded completely…she's pushing back the dementor's influence.'

With effort, Harriet brought herself back to reality, only to see a dementor glide into their compartment, and more behind it. Before fear could grip her again, a silver mist shot down the hall, causing the dementors to flee out the back of the train. In their wake, Harriet saw the man from earlier with his wand drawn, shouting at the dementors.

"Sirius Black is not hiding in our pockets, monsters! Your target is not on the train! Leave these children alone!" Entering the compartment, Remus looked around at the three shaking figures. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slab of Honeydukes' finest. He broke the chocolate into pieces, handing them to the Slytherins. "Here, eat this. Chocolate helps you recover from dementor exposure."

Sure enough, as the three girls ate the chocolate, they felt their strength return much faster than they had expected. Standing, Harriet smiled at the man.

"Thank you for chasing them off, Mr…" He smiled.

"Lupin. Or, Professor Lupin, rather. I'll be assuming the mantle of Defense teacher this year." Harriet smiled wider.

"Oh wonderful. A defense teacher that actually knows the subject. This might actually be a decent year, dementors on the grounds and all." Blushing slightly, Remus turned and left, checking on the other students. Even after conversation, he still did not consciously realize Harriet Potter was a Slytherin.

**00000**

While he ate, Remus Lupin slowly scanned the Gryffindor table, looking to make sure his best friend's daughter was alright. Not seeing her there, he frowned slightly, then more quickly scanned the Ravenclaw, and then Hufflepuff tables. Swallowing more heavily than he needed to, he scanned the final table, finally finding Harriet Potter sitting at the far end of the Slytherin table, chatting happily with her friends from the train. Against his will, he felt himself pale, imagining what James would say about this.

Harriet fought the urge to flick her tongue in annoyance.

"You know, I wonder why Professor Lupin is staring at me, looking like Christmas has been cancelled." From his seat beside her Blaise shrugged.

"Could be most anything, really. Hard to say for sure." Harriet nodded, chewing her lip for a moment.

Remus nearly spit his pumpkin juice all over the Hufflepuff table. 'How many times did I see Lily do that same thing…' Harriet caught it.

"Well, as a preliminary guess, I think Professor Lupin was likely a friend of my father's from school. Professor Snape seems to hate him, which matches up with my guess about his relationship with my father. It also explains why he seems so surprised to see me wearing green and silver." Tracey shrugged.

"I can probably find out tomorrow. I think Hermione knows where the old student records are kept in the library." Blaise nodded.

"Seems like a valid project. If he's not in there, I can get one of my contacts in Gryffindor to look through the ones in their tower." Harriet smirked wickedly.

"Morgana, I didn't even have to say anything this time, and you guys go off on your own." She wiped a false tear from her eye. "I'm so proud of you. Using your own contacts to get what we want and everything."

Three pairs of eyes rolled. Harriet pretended not to notice.

**00000**

**00000**

**AN:** Sooo…turns out people use the rune arrays on the familiar ritual for a reason. Who knew? Other than me, I mean. I knew. Oh well, summer is done, and PoA has started. Things are in motion. I've been looking forward to PoA, actually. Lots of room to deviate from canon, here. Lots of room for plots and schemes, too.

As always, questions, comments, cries of anguish, pleas for more, and aspirations you wish to cast upon the legitimacy of my birth (as applicable) may be submitted to me below.

~ExaltedChaos


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: **I still don't own anything.

**00000**

**00000**

The next morning, Harriet regarded her class schedule with a raised eyebrow.

"Starting the week with Double Potions with the Lions, then Double Defense, again with Gryffindor? Did Professor Snape make the third year timetables this year? Someone must have it in for the poor Gryffs." Blaise snorted into his tea.

"It gets better. Friday morning is the same thing. We share Charms twice a week as well. And their one chance for revenge is shot, as we seem to have Transfiguration with the 'Puffs. Although, with Hagrid teaching now, Care for Magical Creatures might fill the void." Daphne nodded, but Harriet just shrugged.

"Yeah, let me know how that goes. I do like Hagrid, but teaching? I'm glad I didn't take Care." Tracey smiled.

"That's right, you're with me in Runes and Arithmacy, right?" Harriet nodded.

"Mhm…you're on your own for Divination, though. If I remember correctly, Daphne, you're Runes and Care, right?" The blonde nodded. "And Blaise is in Arithmacy and Care?" The boy smirked.

"Right you are. And of course Trace would be the one to take three electives. Although, I've heard rumors that Granger was trying to actually just take all of them, actually." Harriet furrowed her brow.

"Shouldn't be possible…with that many classes, some of them would overlap, if not just run at the same time. Not to mention the fact that she's Muggleborn, so why in the world is she actually taking Muggle Studies for, anyway? Honestly, what is she trying to do, make up for being petrified for most of last year?" Blaise just shrugged. "Oh well. Blaise, you might want to keep an eye on that. Something isn't right there. Now come on, let's head down to the dungeons. We need to grab our books, then wait outside the door to watch Malfoy invariably put his foot in his mouth trying to taunt the Gryffindors, or better yet, me."

Halfway down the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy felt his ears burn.

**00000**

Remus sighed to himself as his third year class left his classroom. He turned around, expecting to see an empty room. Instead, he saw his best friend's _Slytherin_ daughter sitting on the edge of a desk, slightly swinging her legs. Remus quickly plastered a smile on his face.

"Ah, Ms. Potter. I presume you have a question about me not allowing you to face the Boggart?" Harriet shook her head.

"Oh no, I could very easily guess your reasoning. I have personally encountered The Dark Lord more times than anyone else who is not a Death Eater and lived. My boggart may very well be Lord Voldemort." Harriet ignored Remus's flinch. "And there is no sense putting the rest of the class, especially those poor ickle Gryffs," Remus's face soured, and Harriet had to suppress a smirk, "through that kind of trauma. No, Professor, I want to talk to you about what happened on the train yesterday. You used some spell to repel the dementors. And, seeing as dementors seem to affect me more than average, that spell would be highly useful to me." Remus stared at the girl for a pregnant moment.

"Ms. Potter, the spell you're talking about is NEWT level. I hesitate to teach it to you until I've seen more of your aptitude." Harriet nodded, expecting something along those lines. She slid off the desk, grabbing her bag before heading for the door. Just before she left, she turned back towards her Defense teacher.

"Oh, and Professor, I believe it might make you happy to know that the Sorting Hat very dearly wanted me in Gryffindor. If I had met someone different on the train, I likely would have let it." With a smirk at her professor's nonplussed expression, Harriet left, closing the door behind her.

Thirty seconds later, Remus Lupin blinked.

'She may be a Slytherin, but Lily and James are both in there…'

**00000**

The third week of September, Harriet was rather surprised to see Snape standing at the front of the Defense classroom. He met the groans of the Gryffindor side of the classroom with a gimlet eye.

"Professor Lupin is currently indisposed, and the Headmaster has asked me to take care of his classes where my schedule permits. Get out your books, and turn to page 45." As she flipped through her book, Harriet took a moment to glance at Blaise with a raised eyebrow. The boy shrugged, then nodded slowly, twice.

Partway through class, Blaise abused Snape's Slytherin favoritism to slide a small note into Daphne's hand at the desk next to him. A few minutes later, when one of the Gryffindors asked what Snape regarded as a particularly stupid question, Daphne passed the note over to Tracey.

**00000**

At lunch, the four Slytherin third years met on the second floor. Harriet arrived last, holding a basket of food. Blaise raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Excuse me, but how, exactly, did you come by that?" Harriet laughed.

"Remember that map the twins gave me on the train last June? I ran down to the kitchens, told the House Elves I was using the good weather to have a picnic. And between the map and the cloak, getting back up here with it was trivial. Did you guys really think we were skipping lunch?" No one bothered to respond. Harriet rolled her eyes. "Anyway, I'm willing to bet 20 Galleons on Professor Lupin being a werewolf." Blaise narrowed his eyes.

"OK, Harri, I know 20 Galleons is basically nothing to you, oh rich Heiress. But you never bet on anything. The fact that you are now, and putting an amount that most of the world would not deem inconsequential on it, means you actually have everything but a Veritaserum confession and a pensive with the memories of all of his transformations." Harriet just smirked wickedly, and poured a cup of tea. Blaise looked thoughtful.

"You know, Harri, I didn't know it would bother me this much to have my information so completely trumped. And yet, here we are. You obviously know things, and we agreed after Tracey woke up last year that the four of us wouldn't have secrets. What do you know, and who are your sources?" Tracey and Daphne leaned forward, anxious. Harriet just sipped her tea.

"I have a total of three sources, Blaise, although an argument could be made for either two or one to be the correct number. My primary source is myself. I happened to take a walk last night, ended up in a courtyard. The moon was full. The full moon, if you'll remember our first Defense class this year, is Professor Lupin's boggart. And now, the day after his greatest fear, Professor Snape is teaching Defense. Also, I directed the twin's pranking habits for the last couple days. Turns out, Professor Snape has been brewing Wolfsbane, privately in his office. There, alternately one, two, or three sources, depending on how you count, and all of my evidence." Blaise leaned his chair back, deep in thought.

"Well then, this is just a turn of events. Harriet is bringing me the information. I also feel like it should be my turn to be the idea man." Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Blaise, just let it go. None of us have Harri's talent for schemes." Tracey nodded.

"Besides, do we really want anything with this info? If this gets out, I can't imagine Professor Lupin staying as a teacher. And I happen to enjoy having an actual Defense teacher." Harriet paused with a mouth full of sandwich, thinking. After a moment, she shrugged, pointing at herself then holding two fingers close together, before nodding and gesturing at Tracey with her sandwich. Blaise and Tracey simultaneously quirked eyebrows, but Daphne shook her head, chuckling to herself.

"Don't worry Harri, I understood you." Tracey and Blaise turned their raised eyebrows on the blonde girl. "Basically, Harriet might leverage this into a small personal favor, but essentially Tracey is spot on with this one." Harriet nodded, while Tracey and Blaise regarded the two girls like they had sprouted antlers. The dark skinned boy shook his head.

"I'm confident I've fallen into some parallel universe where everything is wrong. Daphne is now the perceptive one, Harriet brings the info, and Tracey is now in charge of plans. I give up."

There was a pause, then the three girls burst into laughter.

**00000**

On Friday before lunch, Remus saw Harriet Potter once again staying after class to speak with him. What surprised him were the OWL level privacy spells the girl put up after the last student had left.

"Ms. Potter, I'm curious as to why you believe the privacy spells are necessary." As she turned around to face him, Harriet schooled her face into a mask of seriousness.

"Professor, the spells are for your own benefit. You see, why your boggart takes its, peculiar, shall we say, shape." Remus felt himself pale slightly.

'Oh, she is the daughter of Lily Evans, alright. And with James's penchant for sticking his nose places it shouldn't be.'

"Ms. Potter, you are treading dangerous ground here." Despite himself, his voice shook slightly. Harriet's mask cracked wide open.

"Professor, you really were a Gryffindor. Relax, I legitimately put up the spells for your benefit. I don't want this news getting out any more than you do. I just want to learn to defend myself from dementors. Even if you won't teach me, just the name of the spell would be enough. I need something new to work on, Bluebell Flames get old after a while." Remus felt his eyebrows chase his hairline.

"You can produce Bluebell Flames as a third year? I'd very much like to see that." Harriet grinned, and pulled her wand again. With a small motion of her wand, azure flames sprouted from one of the desks, shaping itself into a rose. After a few moments, the rose dissipated, leaving no mark on the desk.

Remus endeavored to not swallow his tongue.

"Ms. Potter…I have not seen Charms work of that caliber from a student since I was in school. If you would like to meet me here on Sunday, after lunch, we can talk about that spell you want to know." Harriet nodded.

"I'll be here, Professor. And thank you." A casual flick of her wand took the privacy spells down as she left the room, leaving Remus to his memories of a young woman with emerald eyes, and bright red hair.

**00000**

Harriet continued to meet with her Defense professor once a week, working on the Patronus Charm. She was immensely relieved when she found out what the spell was.

"Patronus Charm? Thank Merlin. At least it isn't Transfiguration of some kind, I'm utter pants at Transfiguration. Charms, however, I can do."

Despite her confidence, her lessons continued without much success. She managed to produce a small mist by the end of her second lesson, but she couldn't get much farther than that.

On Halloween, Harriet sat down at the feast, grumbling. Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Still no luck on a Patronus yet, I take it?" Harriet just nodded. Tracey shot her a look.

"Remember, Harri, the spell is beyond NEWT level. Most adults cannot produce a corporeal Patronus. And besides, while you are amazing with Charms, I still think fire is your true calling." Harriet shrugged.

"That's why I'm still working with Bluebell in my spare time. Professor Lupin did say fire can be a somewhat effective against dementors." Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Most living beings that aren't dragons don't take to large amounts of fire well." Harriet shrugged.

"Yeah, but the Patronus is the only thing that can actually get rid of those things. The only thing they're actually afraid of. And given how I react to dementors, I need to get this down."

**00000**

After the feast, Harriet was lying on her bed, the room blissfully Pansy free. Using the quiet, Harriet pulled the Marauder's Map from her satchel. Activating it, she began to look through the castle. Very quickly, she realized something was wrong.

'The Gryffindors are all still in the Great Hall? And not all at their table, either. And why are all of the staff searching the hallways like that? What in Merlin's name is going on here?'

**00000**

Harriet did not have to wait very long to solve the mystery, as the news was all over the castle the next morning.

Sirius Black had broken into the castle. Ransacked the Gryffindor tower. The third year boy's dormitory seemed to be his target.

At breakfast, Harriet narrowed her eyes.

"Well, I hope this clears up the prevailing thought that Sirius Black is after me. Even if he did assume I was in Gryffindor, he knows full well that I am the Girl-Who-Lived, not the Boy." Blaise nodded slowly.

"One would hope, but one can also never overstate the idiocy of humans. Alright, let us assume that Harriet was not Mr. Black's intended target. What was?" Harriet chewed on her lip for a moment, thinking about what she had seen on the Map the previous night. Suddenly, she remembered the one name still in Gryffindor Tower.

"Blaise…is there a student at the school by the name of Peter Pettigrew?" Blaise raised an eyebrow, then reached into an inner pocket, and pulled out a thick, folded parchment. He opened it, and began to scan what Harriet saw was a list of names. Harriet felt her vertical pupils widen.

"You keep a complete list of the students of Hogwarts with you at all times?" The boy nodded as he flipped a page.

"Of course. Each name is also marked, corresponding to what kind of information we have on them." He narrowed his eyes, scowling. "And no, Peter Pettigrew is not currently enrolled at Hogwarts. I assume you saw that name on the Map last night?" Harriet nodded absently, her mind reeling.

"I need to find out who made this Map. See if it is ever wrong, or has any quirks we don't know about. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs. Wait…Moony…guys, what are the odds on Professor Lupin being Moony?" Blaise shook his head.

"Not good enough, no yet. We can't afford to overplay our hand." Harriet nodded, sighing.

"You're right. We need more information before we act. I'll see if I can start probing Professor Lupin during our Patronus lessons. If nothing else, to eliminate him as a possibility."

**00000**

The second week of November came, and with it, the first Quidditch match of the season. Gryffindor versus Slytherin.

Harriet leaned against the wall of the Slytherin locker room, waiting for the new Captain, Warrington, to start his speech.

"Alright, you lot. Our first game of the season, and against the Lions to boot. Don't fuck this up. I got word from Hooch this morning, bloody downpour or not, the game is happening today. Potter, you're the only one not on a 2001, seeing as you smashed yours last year. Lucky for you, Gryffindor's new Seeker is the Weasley girl, and your 2000 should have no problem flying rings around whatever those blood traitors could afford.

"That being said, and as much as I do hate to admit it, their Chasers are good, and their Beaters are better. Their Keeper, Wood, is very good. Potter, don't drag this out. Find the Snitch, and catch it. Fast. Crabbe, Goyle, you remember Gryffindor from last year. You two aren't going to have time to play favorites. So don't hover around Malfoy, and keep those Bludgers off us. Chasers, you know your formations. And above all, this weather is going to hamper Hooch's sight. Play dirty, just win." Harriet cleared her throat.

"Crabbe, Goyle, given you two are staring down the Weasley twins, forget about me. Protect the Chasers and our Captain. I'll just use their sister as a Bludger shield." Malfoy sneered.

"Scarhead, you are not the Captain. You can't change the game plans." Warrington just smirked.

"Normally, Potter, I would agree with Malfoy. However, in this case, I wholeheartedly agree with your adjustment to our plans. Crabbe, Goyle, ignore her. Potter, stick close to the littlest Weasley. Now, let's go crush some Lions."

**00000**

Five minutes later, Harriet realized another reason she had to find the Snitch quickly. While her Quidditch robes had some of the strongest Warming Charms she could muster, between the wind and the torrential downpour, the November weather was getting to her.

And Harriet could not afford to get cold any more.

Flying higher, Harriet reached up and took her glasses off without a second thought. The wet glass was making it nearly impossible to see the other players, much less the Snitch. With the obstacle removed, she began her search with earnest, trying to keep Ginny sandwiched between herself and the twins.

**00000**

In the shadow of the stands, a rather bedraggled black dog stared up into the sky, its face etched with canine disbelief. But there was no mistaking what the announcer had said as he introduced the teams.

Harriet Potter was a _Slytherin._ Sirius Black wondered where it all went wrong.

**00000**

Twenty minutes later, Harriet Potter was officially cold. Her Warming Charms kept her awake and more or less alert, but they would not hold out forever. Suddenly, she found it. The Snitch, which looked like a rather large raindrop from this distance, was flying over the stands. Summoning her strength, she pushed her Nimbus as fast as it could go. By the time Ginny saw her movement and followed her, Harriet knew that her opposing Seeker was a nonentity.

In her focus on the Snitch, Harriet Potter did not see the rapidly approaching dementors, headed straight for her.

What she did notice was the screams of her mother, echoing through her mind, answered by the strength of her familiar. She fought against both presences in her mind for a few more seconds, then gave in to her inner snake with one final command.

_Strike._

As she hurtled along through the air, the Snitch ahead of her and to the side, the Dementors behind, Harriet Potter, without a second thought, or much of a first, leapt from her broom. Her left hand, guided by instinct and reflex, shot out and closed around the golden, winged ball right as the Patronus from her Defense professor caught up to the dementors.

The dementors scattered, and Harriet fell into the stands, neatly into the arms of one Cedric Diggory. Her broom, rider less, followed its ballistic trajectory, straight into the Whomping Willow.

Harriet looked up at the tall Hufflepuff as he set her on her feet.

"Diggory, right? 6th year Prefect, Seeker? Thanks, I would hate to spend a week in the Hospital Wing after breaking my broom two years in a row." Cedric just stared incredulously. Smirking, Harriet turned to face the rest of the pitch, and held the Snitch aloft. For a long moment, the only sounds came from the storm.

Then the entire stadium exploded into noise, Lee Jordan's microphone allowing him to rise above the rest.

"Unbelievable. Absolutely bloody unbelievable. Harriet Potter saw the thing no one else could, and caught it, crazy dementors be damned. Ladies, gentlemen, I do think we may have just witnessed the greatest catch of modern times. Slytherin wins! Final score of 210-130. As a Gryffindor, my hat is off to you, Harriet Potter."

Harriet glanced at the ruins of her broom, sighed, and began to walk calmly down the stairs.

**00000**

Sirius Black was deeply impressed, despite himself. His Goddaughter may be a Slytherin, but she did put her life in the hands of a Hufflepuff, and no one could call that catch anything short of a miracle.

Sirius Black decided what he would send his Goddaughter for Christmas.

The large, black dog slinked away, back into the forest.

**00000**

Half an hour later, after a long, hot shower, Harriet Potter walked back into her dormitory, intending to start on her Defense essay. However, she was intercepted on the way to her bed by a grinning Daphne.

'Harri, you'll have time for homework later. Right now there is the party of the year happening in the common room, and Warrington insists that you are the guest of honor. Come on, once you get down there, they're cracking the aged Firewhiskey. If nothing else, most of Slytherin is going to be drunk later, and easier for you to take advantage of." Harriet rolled her eyes, but followed the blonde anyway.

Once Harriet walked into the common room, Warrington did indeed open a bottle of Ogden's finest. He poured two glasses, pushed one into Harriet's hand, and raised the other.

"Witches, Wizards, Purebloods, and other cretin: may I present the Lady of the Hour, Miss Harriet Potter, better known as the best damn Seeker to see Hogwarts in generations." Every head in the room turned to look at the Girl-Who-Lived. She cleared her throat.

"Slytherin! We are truly the best of the Houses. In this room is the future movers, shakers, and people of import in the Wizarding World. You know what, I'm holding some incredibly expensive whiskey. And I know there are plenty more bottles waiting in the wings. Odds are, if I made some big speech, none of you would remember it tomorrow. So I won't. Now, I was promised a celebration." Harriet simply smiled and raised her glass to the applause that broke out, then drained her glass.

From the corner, Blaise looked at his best friend askew.

"I had to start the party somehow, Blaise. Now, wait half an hour, then start working the room. I want to make some money tonight. Now, if you'll excuse me, my goal for tonight is to make Malfoy feed me grapes. I should get started."

**00000**

The next morning, there were four Slytherins above second year that did not need hangover potions. They all sat at the far end of the long table for breakfast. Harriet turned to the wizard in the group.

"Well, Blaise, how did we do?" The boy pulled out his ever present muggle notebook.

"We gained 54 Galleons, 14 Sickles, 3 Knuts, Titus Miller's chess set, three bottles of sixty year old Firewhiskey, and hair samples from a wide variety of students." Daphne arched an eyebrow.

"Why, exactly, did you take hair samples, Blaise?" Harriet smirked.

"Because with Tracey's help, I brewed a large amount of Polyjuice Potion over the summer. You never know when you'll want to turn into someone else." Daphne grinned, and returned to her breakfast.

**00000**

Harriet woke early the following morning, as was her custom on days she had class. She had to stifle a scream as she looked in the mirror. Lines of black scales wound around her body. Across her chest, down her back, twisting down her limbs. With no small amount of trepidation, Harriet experimentally pried at one of the scales on the back of her hand, only to hiss at the pain. Cursing under her breath, she showered quickly, trying to get used to the sensation of the scales sliding together. It was odd, but not unpleasant.

After her shower, Harriet dressed for the day, making sure none of her new scales were visible. As she started to leave the room, she grimaced, seeing black scales poking out from underneath the sleeves of her robe. Back in her trunk, she found a pair of knit black mittens, an old relic from the days under the Dursley's roof. Two quiet Slicing Hexes later, Harriet pulled on her new fingerless gloves, and left the room.

**00000**

By the time Daphne and Tracey woke up, Harriet was long gone. However, Tracey noticed a single parchment sitting on Harriet's desk. Tracey frowned, seeing the note was written in Blaise's neat handwriting.

"Find me. 24-13-33-06"

Tracey took the note, and used the code to open the left half of Harriet's trunk. Sitting on top of everything was the Marauder's Map, activated. Looking over the brunette's shoulder, Daphne checked the Map, and found a dot marked Harriet Potter in the library. Daphne deactivated the map, and Tracey folded it back up, tossing it into the trunk and locking it, along with the note with the pass code.

After meeting Blaise in the common room, the three left and headed to the library. They found Harriet at a table in a corner, her nose in a book. With a glance to confirm the three's identities, Harriet pulled her wand from her sleeve, and put up several strong privacy spells. Blaise sighed.

"Ok, Harriet, I assume you're freaking out because of a new snake characteristic?" Harriet just rolled up one sleeve, showing her friends the twisting lines of black scales.

"I know have these all over my body. I nearly had a heart attack in the shower." Blaise whistled low.

"This transformation of yours doesn't mess around, does it? Well, at least you were already wearing thick robes all the time." Harriet leveled a glare at him.

"Blaise, your ability to understate the obvious astounds me. It truly does."

**00000**

In the first week of December, Gryffindor tower was broken into again. This time, in the middle of the night. The following morning at breakfast, Harriet rolled her eyes.

"This is twice now the third year boys of Gryffindor have been the target of an attack by Sirius Black. He cannot possibly be after me." Blaise nodded.

"Of course, if you listen to him, Ronald Weasley claims he's the target." Harriet rolled her eyes again, but didn't directly comment.

"You know, I'm starting to think this Pettigrew character might have something to do with it. Blaise, find everything you can on him. After all, the best way to exploit mass hysteria is to know exactly what is really going on." Blaise nodded, and returned to his breakfast.

**00000**

On Christmas morning, Harriet found herself alone. Blaise had joined his mother in France, Daphne her parents and sister in Italy, and Tracey her parents in Spain. As she looked over her collection of gifts, one package in particular caught her eye. It was rectangular, and roughly a meter and a half long. However, the tag was what perplexed her the most.

"_I was there when your other broke. Only the best for my God-daughter. Not to mention what your Slytherin friends would say if their Seeker was using something second-rate._

_-Padfoot"_

Harriet stared at the salutation for over a minute. She had a Godfather? And he was there at the Gryffindor game? And he was the Marauder known as Padfoot? However, the reality she was holding a brand new broom caught up to her, and she pushed her confusion aside, tearing through the paper. The wooden box was hewn from ebony, and highly polished, but otherwise unmarked. There was another note on top, in different handwriting.

"_This broom was special ordered for you, and the only one of its kind privately owned in Britain. May it serve you well. _

_-Clinton Merryweather, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Diagon Alley Branch Manager."_

Again, Harriet stopped, her mind reeling. With some hesitation, borne of disbelief, she carefully opened the wooden box, and pulled the exquisite broom from its confines. Like the outer box, the broom itself was made from ebony, and polished to a nearly mirror finish. The tail twigs, only slightly lighter in color than the rest of the broom, were tightly bound and shaped, not a single one out of place. On the nose, inlaid in gold, was the name of the broom. Harriet's heart nearly stopped.

"Firebolt…" Harriet whispered the name, letting her fingers trace over the word. She was actually holding the only privately owned Firebolt in Britain, and it was hers. Reverently, she placed it back in its box as a wide grin split her face.

She did not stop smiling for seven hours.

**00000**

Barely two hours after the students had returned after the winter hols, the Slytherin Quidditch team convened in their locker room for practice. After she emerged from the girl's side, Harriet found herself confronted by her captain.

"Potter, we have a game in two weeks. You'd better not be hobbling along on a Cleansweep anymore." Harriet smirked wickedly.

"Oh, certainly not. Have no fear, Warrington, I have a new broom." From the side, she heard Draco scoff. The smirk not leaving her face, Harriet walked calmly over to the Seeker broom locker, and whispered a sibilant phrase into the lock. She took the ebony box from it, and sat carefully on a bench, placing the box on her lap. Harriet could tell she had the attention of the entire team. Carefully opening the box, Harriet reached inside, and revealed the Firebolt. Warrington, Pucey, and Montague, all whistled appreciatively, while Malfoy turned pale in rage. The captain shook his head.

"Potter, I take back all the shit I've given you about breaking your 2000." He roughly ran a hand through his hair. "I mean, fuck. We already had the best Seeker in the school, not close. And now she's flying a bloody Firebolt. It's only the fastest broom in the world." He turned to face the rest of the team. "Gentlemen, we just became unstoppable. On a Nimbus 2000, a torrential downpour, the Weasley twins, and bloody dementors couldn't stop Potter from getting a Snitch. Now she has an actual Firebolt. For those of you not in the know about ridiculously high end brooms, the Firebolt can almost double the top speed of a Nimbus 2001. It also makes the 2001 look like a Cleansweep Two in the corners. I hear the top level national teams are riding Firebolts for the World Cup." Malfoy fumed, while the other four were impressed. Warrington turned back to Harriet.

"Potter, do I want to know how in Salazar's name you acquired a Firebolt?" Harriet shrugged slightly.

"It was a gift." Warrington shook his head.

"Alright, enough gawking. Let's get in the air. You know what, let's play a game. I'll release the Snitch, then Potter will go get it. Meanwhile, all six of us will be trying to knock her out of the sky. Potter, I hope you practiced some with that new broom of yours, let's see what you can do with a broom that can race the Hogwarts Express." Harriet didn't answer directly, but merely smirked as she left the locker room.

**00000**

The following afternoon, four third year Slytherins sequestered themselves into an unused classroom. Blaise cleared his throat.

"So, it took some digging, but I found records on Peter Pettigrew. The thing is, according to the ministry, he's been dead for over a decade." Harriet scowled, and gestured for Blaise to continue. "Supposedly, he was one of the victims of Sirius Black's killing spree on Halloween, 1981." For a long moment, no one spoke. Harriet shook her head.

"Alright, well, I have another Patronus lesson with Professor Lupin tonight. I think it's time to stop being subtle. We need answers, because either the map is wrong, and thus all but useless to us, or history is wrong." Tracey nodded.

"For the record, Harri, there were four Gryffindor men that graduated in 1978. They were Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew…and James Potter." At the mention of her father, Harriet froze for a moment, then began to chew on her lip.

"Then…oh Merlin, it makes sense. Professor Lupin has to be Moony. Sirius Black is Padfoot. Why, exactly, I don't know, but he is, in addition to being my Godfather. I mean, the man bought me a Firebolt. Professor Lupin doesn't have those kinds of funds, and Pettigrew is legally dead. So, then, is some order, Peter Pettigrew and my father are Wormtail and Prongs. My instinct is to say that order is correct, though I lack proof. I need to go to the Owlry, I need to have a couple things ordered, I think. Then, I'll confront Moony about the map. The longer we bumble around with half the information, our window closes. There is an opportunity here, I think. And, with some cunning, we should be able to capitalize on it." With a smirk, Harriet gathered her things and left the room, leaving three slightly dazed classmates behind her.

**00000**

An hour later, Harriet walked into the Defense classroom. Her professor was at his usual place, behind his desk. Still fueled by her earlier revelation, Harriet perched on the corner on another desk, and got straight to the point.

"Moony, is the Marauder's Map ever wrong?"

Remus Lupin promptly fell from his chair. Standing quickly, he studied the dark haired girl for a long moment.

"I know that you have figured out my, ahem, condition. However, I am curious as to how you know the name Moony, how you know of the Marauder's Map, and how you are certain that I would know of it as well?"

"You see, Professor, in their first detention of first year, the Weasley Twins found the Marauder's Map in Filch's office. At the end of last year, they gave it to me. Also, I am reasonably sure of the identities of all four Marauders, not just you. All thanks to a note my Godfather, Sirius Black, signed as "Padfoot"." Remus nearly fell over again.

"Miss Potter, how, exactly, have you received a note from Sirius Black?" Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Attached to a Christmas present, actually. But back to the question, because your answer could mean a great many things. Is the Map ever wrong?" Remus furrowed his brow in thought, then shook his head.

"No…part of the magic ties itself to Hogwarts's own ward scheme to plot and name the people inside. Unless the wards fail, the Map is foolproof." Harriet's eyes widened for a moment, then hopped down from the desk.

"Thank you, Professor. Now, I must regretfully skip out on our lesson this evening, as there are other things that require my immediate attention. Good evening, Professor." Without waiting for a response, Harriet stood and swept from the room.

**00000**

**00000**

**AN: **And so the game begins. For those of you that enjoy complicated plots and Mastermind!Harriet, I think you'll enjoy next chapter.

As always, questions, comments, cries of anguish, pleas for more, aspirations you wish to cast upon the legitimacy of my birth, and recommendations for new additions to this list (as applicable) may be submitted to me via the big box below.

~ExaltedChaos


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:** Nothing has changed. I still own nothing.

**00000**

**00000**

Later that night, while everyone else in the dormitory was asleep, Harriet studied the Marauder's Map. Her gaze was locked onto Gryffindor Tower, specifically the third year boy's dormitory. There were four names of the students she recognized, spaced evenly through the room, presumably sleeping in their beds.

What puzzled her was the fifth name, Peter Pettigrew. The spacing was wrong. The dot was placed halfway between Weasley and Thomas on the map, far too close to either to have a bed. She idly flicked her tongue through the air. 'There is something missing…it feels like I'm just one piece of information short of a revelation…I need to know what there is between Thomas' and Weasley's bed. Longbottom would know. Tomorrow is my last day before class starts again, my last day to move freely. The board is set, tomorrow I make my move.'

**00000**

The next day, after lunch, Harriet placed herself in a corridor near the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Neville Longbottom came walking towards her.

"Excuse me, Longbottom, but I would like a word." The Gryffindor boy shrugged.

"Sure, Potter. What do you need? Herbology notes?" Harriet smirked, and shook her head.

"Nothing like that, no. Just a simple question. What is there between Thomas' and Weasley's beds at night? Anything alive?" Neville frowned, deeply.

"I don't really get it…but the only thing is Ron's rat, Scabbers. His cage is on the table between his bed and Dean's." Harriet braced herself against the wall, nearly falling over as everything suddenly clicked into place in her mind.

"…Thanks, Neville. You just helped me far more than you know." Without waiting for a response, Harriet took off down the hall, a single word echoing in her mind. _Wormtail._

Once she got to the dungeons, she quickly pulled her friends into the hall, and down a side path.

"Everything makes sense. I don't have time to explain now, I will later, once we get everything together. Blaise, go hunt down the Twins. We'll meet in Fluffy's room, I think." Without waiting for a response, she turned to Tracey. "Trace, go find Professor Lupin. Tell him Wormtail is alive, and I need his help. Again, we'll meet in Fluffy's room." Reaching into her satchel, Harriet gave Daphne a small, glass orb. "Daph, I need you to go to my chest. Tap this with your wand, it will open the right side. Grab the map and the cloak, meet me in Fluffy's, and by Salazar, let absolutely no one get their hands on that sphere. We don't have much time, there is a lot that needs to get done today, and the day is half gone already. I'll meet you guys there, I have a stop of my own." Noticing the look in Harriet's eyes, her friends didn't ask questions, merely nodded and left for their respective destinations.

**00000**

Seeing the empty room, Daphne sighed in relief. Walking straight to the far bed, she crouched down in front of her friend's formidable looking trunk. Holding the sphere close to the right hand lock, she activated it, and heard hissing emit from it. The lock clicked open, and Daphne opened the lid. Pulling the two items she came for from the trunk, and noting several others with a raised eyebrow, she stowed the three precious items into her own bag, and closed the lid, making sure the lock clicked shut.

**00000**

Tracey knock on the Defense teacher's office. Within moments, Remus Lupin opened the door, surprised at his visitor.

"Miss Davis, how may I help you?" Tracey shook her head.

"I don't exactly know, Professor. Harriet sent me with a message, 'Wormtail is alive'. She needs your help for something, I'm not sure what. If you could follow me, we can find out together." Remus narrowed his eyes.

"If Wormtail is alive…yes, I think I shall accompany you. He has some explaining to do." Tracey smirked, and led the way to the third floor.

**00000**

Blaise found one of his Gryffindor informants on the fifth floor.

"Ah, Golding. I need you to do something for me." The sixth year Gryffindor eyed the third year Slytherin carefully.

"What do you need from me, Zabini?" Blaise shook his head.

"Nothing taxing, although it might be slightly unsafe. I need you to find the Weasley twins. Tell them that Harriet Potter needs their help, and to meet me on the third floor, in the room they found the dog in their third year." The older boy cocked his head to the side.

"Alright, doesn't seem too difficult. I believe Gred and Forge are in the Tower, but no promises on them complying." Blaise smirked, then turned and walked away.

"No worries there, Golding. They're smart enough to come when Harriet Potter calls." Anthony Golding stared after the retreating Slytherin for a moment, the turned and left for Gryffindor Tower.

**00000**

A few minutes later, Fred and George Weasley walked into the room where they had found a Cerberus. In the dog's place, they found three Slytherin third years and their Defense Professor. Notably absent was Harriet Potter. Blaise spoke before they could.

"As me just explained to Professor Lupin, Harriet is the only one that knows what is going on. I have no idea why I was told to fetch you two at all, or really why the Professor is here. Harriet is on her way, she'll explain."

Harriet chose that exact moment to walk into the room. Seeing the people gathered, and looking at her questioningly, she smiled.

"Oh good, everyone is here. Now, time to get to work. Fred, George, I'll explain everything to you two later, for now, you have a job to do. I need Ronald's pet rat. Daphne, give them the Cloak, they'll need it more." The twin red heads looked at her oddly.

"So you just need…Scabbers?" Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Fred. I need that rat which you know as Scabbers, whom I strongly suspect is, in fact, the rat Animagus form of Peter Pettigrew. That is where his nickname came from, is it not, Professor?" Remus Lupin preformed a picture perfect double take.

"How did you…" He shook his head. "Yes, Peter was a rat Animagus." Harriet smirked.

"So yes, I need Scabbers. Hmm…I also could use with a distraction…" George, who had just taken the Cloak from Daphne met his twin's eyes for a moment.

"Harriet, consider it done. Are we bringing this Pettigrew character back here?" Harriet chewed on her lip for a moment, her mind working furiously.

"No…not here. I need somewhere safer…I might need to hold him for a while…" Suddenly, she shot George a grin. "Bring him to Moaning Myrtle's loo, on the second floor. And to be clear, if you are going to divide and conquer, whomever is bringing me Pettigrew will give me back my Cloak at the same time." The twins simultaneously sighed. "Just go." Saluting, the twins left the room. Harriet turned back to her Defense professor.

"Professor, do you know of a spell that could force Pettigrew to change back to human form?" Remus regarded the girl carefully.

"Yes, I do. I assume that is my role in the operation?" Harriet just grinned.

"Mostly. You have already answered several questions I need you to. In addition, given your Marauder heritage, I trust you to be involved in this, and not take too many House Points for what happens later. My back up plan to reverse the transformation was Professor McGonagall, but I have a feeling she would not have restrained from giving me detention for the rest of the year for kidnapping and interrogating an adult in the Chamber of Secrets, even if he is legally dead." Remus opened his mouth to say something, but saw a gleam in the dark haired girl's eye, one he immediately recognized from her father and godfather. This was happening, and short of physical force, she wasn't going to be stopped.

Meanwhile, Blaise was examining the Map. He cleared his throat to get the room's attention.

"Harri, George is liberally sowing mayhem on the fourth floor, Fred is leaving Gryffindor Tower, Pettigrew in tow. If we're meeting him in the Chamber, we should head down there." Harriet nodded and opened the door, motioning for everyone to follow her.

**00000**

A few minutes later, Fred, under the Invisibility Cloak, entered the haunted bathroom, caged rat in his hand. Harriet was the only one in the room, standing next to a large hole in the tiled floor and studying the Marauder's Map.

"Ah, Fred. Successful?" Fred removed the Cloak, and raised the rat cage. "Excellent. I will take my Cloak and the cage…your twin is heading for the third floor. Go help him out." Fred handed over the items, and saluted again before leaving. Harriet rolled her eyes and hissed, letting herself be sucked down the hole.

Once she landed, she made her way to the large, circular door, where she found her friends and Defense Professor. She hissed under her breath as she approached, causing the door to slowly swing open. Handing the rat cage to Blaise, she motioned to the others to stay put. From behind the statue of Slytherin, she could hear her familiar.

"_Misstresss…I feel you…but I also detect othersss…Ssshould I kill them?" _

"_No. Thessse othersss are my trusted alliesss, with one exception. The one that sssmellsss of Rat, he will be a Prisoner here…Do not kill him, but also do not allow him to ever escape."_

"_Yesss, Misstresss…I will obey..."_ Harriet sighed, and motioned behind her for her companions to come inside. Once they had all crossed the threshold, Harriet hissed again.

"_Seal this Chamber."_ The large door slammed shut, and everyone could hear several locks sliding into place. Harriet turned to face her friends, and saw concerned faces. She rolled her eyes.

"In that cage is a rat. That rat has human intelligence. While it is currently sleeping, he will not stay that way. The last thing I want is for him to get away. So I closed his only escape route." Remus looked to the side and saw a table and several chairs, along with several locked chests. He raised an eyebrow.

"So, you four use the Chamber of Secrets as a kind of headquarters?" Harriet smirked.

"I suppose that isn't incredibly wrong, although it is not correct, either. I use the Chamber as a kind of headquarters. These three haven't ever been down here before." Harriet walked over to one of the chests, and opened the lock with a whispered, sibilant phrase. From within, she pulled a set of black metal shackles, and two small potion vials. She handed one of the vials to Daphne.

"Daph, you're in Care of Magical Creatures. Fred already stunned Pettigrew, but we need to make sure he doesn't go anywhere for the next few minutes. Get the rat to drink that." Blaise set the cage down on the table, and the two of them worked on getting the unconscious Animagus to drink the potion. Remus turned a raised eyebrow to Harriet, who shrugged.

"Draught of Living Death. This other vial is the antidote." The werewolf shook his head as the two Slytherins completed their task. Harriet set the unmoving rat onto the floor.

"Well, Professor, this is the moment of truth, as they say. Would you please reverse the transformation?" Remus swallowed heavily, and pulled his wand from his pocket. With a complicated wand movement and some muttered words, the rat on the floor began to transform. Within moments, Peter Pettigrew, looking much the worse for wear, was lying face down on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets.

While Remus fought to breathe, the four Slytherins worked together to get the unconscious man into a chair. Once he was seated, Harriet grabbed the shackles from the table where she had left them, and manually chained the man to the chair. A few wand movements later, glowing, blue runes came to life on the black metal. Remus found his voice.

"Peter…and what, exactly, are those, Miss Potter?" Harriet didn't look up from her exanimation.

"DLME issue magic suppression shackles. Once we wake him up, I don't need him turning back into a rat and scurrying off somewhere. And before you ask where I got them, you should know that with enough gold and the right contacts, one can get anything in Knockturn Alley." Remus furrowed his brow.

"Is that really necessary?" Harriet, finished with her inspection, rolled her eyes.

"The innocent do not hide, Professor. Peter Pettigrew has hidden as the Weasley family rat for twelve years. He's running from something. Now, Professor, he knows you. I'm going to wake him up, but I would like you to ask the questions. Tracey, Daphne, Blaise, you three spread out behind him, wands out. If he gets out, stun him." Her friends answered with sharp nods, while her Defense teacher eyed her carefully. Harriet rolled her eyes. "You want the same information I do, professor. By being alive, Peter Pettigrew invalidates the official record of Halloween, 1981. You know what questions to ask." Remus nodded, and Harriet poured another potion down Peter's throat. A quiet _Eneverate_ later, the bound man awoke, sputtering. His eyes widened when he saw the Werewolf in front of him. He tried to move and transform, but found both prevented by the shackles. Remus cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing.

"Peter...it was such a surprise to find out you have been alive all this time, hiding in your animal form." Peter swallowed noisily.

"Moony…where are we? Let me out of here, this is all just a misunderstanding…" Remus scowled.

"Wormtail, what really happened that night? Why did you hide for twelve years?" Peter just pulled on his restraints. Harriet, wand out, stepped in front of him, her face a mask.

"Peter Pettigrew, you are bound by the same restraints the DMLE uses to interrogate their prisoners, and to safely transport them to Azkaban. You are not getting out, not unless you explain everything and this really is just a big misunderstanding. If you continue to not cooperate, I will administer Veritaserum." From inside her satchel, she drew a small vial, filled with clear liquid. Peter's eyes went wide.

"Who are you? And Moony, working with Slytherins? How could you?" Harriet's eyes flashed with anger.

"Peter Pettigrew, my name is Harriet Lily Potter. You have information no one else has about the night my parents were murdered, and you will tell me." Peter's eyes widened.

"Harriet, a Slytherin? James would have been so disappointed…" Something inside of Harriet snapped. In an instant, she was standing in front of the chair, her wand pressed into the bound man's neck.

"Speak not of my parents, Pettigrew. They're dead. Because of that, I was forced to be raised by the Dursleys. They are the ones that raised me to be this way. And, until you explain to me just how you are innocent in the ordeal, I hold you responsible for sending me into that hell." Staring into the eyes of his former friend's teenage daughter, Peter Pettigrew saw something reflected there he had only seen once before, right before he betrayed the Potters. He needed no further prodding.

Peter Pettigrew told them everything. How he was, at Sirius's insistence, the Secret Keeper. How he was captured by Death Eaters. How, in the face of Lord Voldemort, he switched sides. How he took the Dark Mark. How he told Voldemort himself the Secret of the Fidelius Charm. How he lead the way to Godric's Hollow. How he stood outside while Voldemort killed James and Lily. How Sirius tracked him down. How Peter faked his own death, framing Sirius for the entire ordeal. How he had hidden with the Weasley family ever since.

At some point, Remus fell to his knees. The werewolf couldn't imagine what Peter had done. He couldn't wrap his head around the truth. His sobs echoed through the Chamber.

Harriet Potter did not fall into sadness. She had no positive memories of the man bound before her. Instead, rage bloomed within her. Here she was, locked in the Chamber of Secrets, facing down a helpless man, the one who had ruined her life on a level matched only by Voldemort. The knuckles of her hand turned white as she clenched onto her wand. The scar on her arm burned, her familiar responding to her rage. Almost of its own accord, her wand leveled, scant centimeters from Peter's face. A single word escaped her lips.

"Crucio." The word was barely a whisper, nearly drowned out by the cries of sadness bouncing through the room.

The tortured screams of Peter Pettigrew, however, filled the room completely. There was a blur of movement, a flash of blonde hair, and the screams stopped. The holly and Phoenix feather wand clattered against the stone floor as the rage fled from Harriet's body.

Daphne Greengrass just hugged the smaller girl closer into her chest, whispering soothing nothings into her ear. Harriet melted into the embrace, clinging to the taller girl as she began to cry.

Blaise, his eyes hard, stared into the face of Peter Pettigrew.

"Pettigrew, I do hope you understand your life is over. Once Harriet can reach a point where she doesn't Crucio you on sight, she will interrogate you under Veritaserum. She will then send a memory of that interrogation to the DMLE. At that point, Aurors will come and pick you up. After their own interrogation, you will be dropped into a cell in Azkaban for the rest of you natural life, assuming they don't decide to have you kissed on sight, of course." The dark skinned boy leaned closer. "If Harriet hadn't beaten me to the punch, I'd be tempted to start using Unforgivables myself. You are the worst piece of filth I have ever laid eyes on. You are very lucky that you are infinitely more useful alive than dead. If your words were not the key to clearing the name of her Godfather, Harriet might have hit you with a very different Unforgivable Curse just now." Blaise turned away from the whimpering man to see Harriet and Daphne pulling apart, and Tracey helping Remus to his feet. Harriet wiped at her tear stained eyes, picking her wand up off the floor.

"Let's just leave…I..I can't be around him anymore. Blaise was right, he's useless to us if I torture him to death." She turned to face the statue at the end of the Chamber. _"Speak to me Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four."_ The statue's mouth began to slide open. _"Come out after we leave, keep watch over the Rat-man. He isss not to die, but make no effort to be kind."_ Harriet heard the hiss of agreement, and opened the large door with another hiss of her own.

As he stepped out of the Chamber of Secrets, Remus's enhanced hearing picked up the sound of scales sliding against stone. He shot a worried glance to the Girl-Who-Lived, who either didn't notice or ignored him. Then the door sealed itself again, and the noise stopped. Harriet just kept walking, leading them back to the second floor bathroom. Once the sinks closed back over the tunnel, Harriet turned to her Defense Professor.

"Professor…Moony…thank you. Your help was invaluable, and you deserved to know as well. I won't keep you any longer, I'm sure you had other things to do today and this took the entire afternoon, but I'll let you know how the next phase is going." The werewolf looked at her oddly. Harriet shook her head. "Sirius Black is innocent. Literally everything he was supposed to have done, save break out of Azkaban, he didn't do, Peter Pettigrew did. It might take some doing, and it will take time, but I will get my godfather's name cleared." Without waiting for a response, Harriet turned and left the bathroom, followed by her three friends.

**00000**

A few minutes later, Remus Lupin walked down the fifth floor corridor, heading for a particular gargoyle. Just before he reached his destination, Blaise Zabini stepped out of an alcove.

"Moony, please think about what you are doing." The werewolf turned to regard the dark skinned boy.

"Mr. Zabini, I have to bring this to the Headmaster's attention." Blaise sighed, shaking his head.

"You do, only if you want everything Harriet is working for to go to waste. She will alert the authorities in due diligence. But there are still steps to be taken before that can happen. If you want Padfoot to walk down Diagon Alley a free man, which I do believe you do, you will let Harriet control the pace of the operation." Remus regarded the Slytherin boy curiously.

"Peter confessed to everything. Why wait?" Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Again, I am reminded that regardless of your collective genius, the Marauders were Gryffindor to the core. What we have, in the eyes of the DMLE, is a confession under duress and torture. What we need is a confession under Veritaserum, with a good word directly with Madam Bones. Given time, we can achieve that. If the authorities are alerted now, they will attempt to force their way into the Chamber of Secrets. If they do succeed, they will all die, as Harriet's familiar is now in the main chamber, personally guarding Wormtail. All that gets is Harriet Potter branded as the new Dark Lady." Blaise sighed deeply. "Moony, Harriet trusts you. She trusts very few people. No more than five people can claim to know the things you learned about her this afternoon. It will take time, but she will recover from her ordeal today. If you break that trust, she will not recover. Now, I have dawdled long enough, and my best friend needs me. Do think about what you are doing, Professor." With a nod, Blaise turned and walked away, leaving Remus to his thoughts.

Remus Lupin stood in that corridor for several minutes, before turning and walking away, back to his classroom.

**00000**

Several days later, Harriet Potter gathered her friends in an abandoned classroom.

"Alright…I'm…better. What we need to do now is find an in with the DMLE." Blaise reached into an inner pocket, and tossed a roll of parchment in Harriet's direction.

"The easy answer is Susan Bones, niece and only surviving family of Madam Amelia Bones, Director of the DMLE. That is everything we know about Susan." Daphne frowned for a moment.

"It might be the easiest answer, Blaise, but it might not be easy. Susan was basically raised by Aurors. She's very rules oriented, and very cautious for a Hufflepuff." Tracey nodded.

"In the intra house study groups, Susan's DADA essays are the second most coveted commodity, behind only Harri's Charms work." Harriet looked up from the parchment to stare curiously at Tracey, who grinned. "It's true. You've had the top grades in Charms for our year since we were sorted. I swear, half the time I get into these study groups just because I'm your friend, and thus might have access to your Charms notes." Harriet shook her head, chewing her lip. After a minute, she turned back to Tracey.

"I need a sample of Susan Bones' handwriting. And hair, if at all possible." Blaise raised an eyebrow.

"You're going to turn yourself into Susan? Remember, we're dealing with the Director of the DMLE. You might not be able to trick her." Harriet just smirked.

"I might, if things don't go according to plan. All three of you have your sources, just get me what I need. In fact, five Galleons to the first one to get me what I need. The hair can wait, but the handwriting sample I'll need fairly soon. Now, let's get down to dinner. I still have that Potions essay to do for tomorrow, and that is going to eat my whole evening."

**00000**

Three days later, Blaise handed Harriet one of Susan Bones' old essays. Putting it away, she shook her head.

"You're getting sloppy, Blaise. Tracey got the five Galleons already. And Daphne got me one yesterday." Blaise sighed as he realized his best friend's real goal.

"Of course, you meant for each of us to get you one. The goal was not one old essay, but three." Harriet just grinned.

"At least you figured that out. I could copy her handwriting off of one essay. But with three, across three different subjects as fate would have it, I can get a sense for her whole writing style. Understand how she thinks, how she lays out her points, how much research she does. Now I can actually forge her work, for any subject." In the secluded corner of the common room, Harriet flicked her forked tongue through the air. Blaise just sighed again.

"You obviously have this all in hand. Just let me know if you need me for anything else." Harriet just smiled, and returned to her essay.

**00000**

The first week of March, Harriet handed Blaise a thick roll of parchment at breakfast.

"Give this to MacMillan next time you see him, play along with whatever he says, and leave my name out of it." Then, Harriet laid a small letter, sealed in wax, on the table. "And when Susan Bones confronts you about it, give her this. And let her open the letter. It's charmed, you see." Blaise didn't see, as it were. Harriet waved him off before he could start. "It's better this way, Blaise. Anonymity is going to be quite the asset for me on this one. Life may not be a game of chess, but sometimes people are just as predictable in life as they are on the board." Blaise merely sighed, and stowed both items into inner pockets of his robes before returning to his breakfast.

**00000**

After Herbology that afternoon, which the Slytherins shared with Hufflepuff, Blaise delivered the large roll to MacMillan, as told.

"Get that back to Bones, would you?" Ernie unrolled the parchment, and his eyes went round as saucers.

"How do you have Susan's Defense essay? She never gives these out. And we just got this thing assigned yesterday…I was sure Susan hadn't even done it yet. I mean, 90 centimeters Merpeople? Yeah, I'll get this back to her for you, Zabini." Blaise nodded, and moved off in a different direction through the corridor.

**00000**

That evening, Harriet was conspicuously absent from dinner. Not five minutes after he sat down, Blaise understood why.

Susan Bones was headed toward the far end of the Slytherin table, and she looked fairly angry.

"Zabini, how is it that you had my Defense essay, much less one that I haven't even finished yet?" Blaise, as instructed, handed the irate red head the sealed letter.

"Bones, I have been told that will explain everything. You know everything I know." Confusion flashed over Susan's face as she pried open the seal, revealing a letter in her own handwriting.

_Susan Bones,_

_Don't worry, you aren't going round the twist. You did not write this letter. Five minutes after you broke the seal on this letter, I will be in Classroom 12, just outside of the Great Hall, on the way towards the Kitchens and the Hufflepuff dormitories. I do hope I shall see you there._

_I will not mandate you come alone, that sounds far too much like a villain from bad Muggle fiction. I will, however, tell you that I would like to discuss highly delicate matters with you, and if you must bring anyone, bring only those you trust implicitly. Though, I will be alone._

_See you there, Susan Bones._

Susan stared down at the unsigned letter for a long moment. 'If someone dictated those words to me, this would be the exact letter I would right. Who in Merlin's name wrote this letter, because I didn't?' Without a glance at either the Slytherin or Hufflepuff tables, Susan Bones strode out of the Great Hall.

The entire way from the Great Hall to Classroom 12, Susan mentally went through every possible permutation of who, exactly, could be waiting for her. The walk was a short one, but even if Susan had walk to Moscow and back, brainstorming the entire way, she would never have thought of Harriet Potter with a picnic basket. Nor did she expect that, the moment the door closed behind her that Harriet would magically lock the door several times, in addition to setting up several OWL level privacy wards.

"Susan Bones, I do not believe we have actually met. As I am sure you know, my name is Harriet Potter. I am sorry about all of the runaround and misdirection, but can you come up with any other scenario in which the two of us are alone and locked inside of a warded classroom?" After a moment, Harriet continued. "I didn't think so. Most people don't trust Slytherins in general, and me in particular, and neither of those is without cause. So I did what I had to do to get you alone in a room with me. It was only a month in planning and practicing your penmanship, after all." Susan goggled at the dark haired girl for a moment.

"You spent a month practicing my handwriting, for that one letter?" Harriet just shrugged.

"Well, the letter and your Defense essay, anyway. Oh yeah, consider the essay payment for your time tonight. I mean, feel free to look it over, but I got a wide enough sample of your other essays to get a pretty good feel for your writing style. And since, due to scheduling, I was assigned that essay a couple days before you were, I did it for you, in your style, in your handwriting. A fairly reliable source tells me you're the only one in our year with better DADA grades than me, so it isn't entirely inferior work to your own. Now, would you rather make small talk over dinner, then allow me to drop my proverbial bomb, or get it out of the way now?" Susan regarded the other girl for a long moment.

"Why should I trust you at all? You've already proven you could imitate me freely." Harriet sighed.

"Because I've proven it to you, Bones. If I wanted to impersonate you, I would never have told you anything. By telling you now, I've made that plan useless. Oh yeah, you should have these, too." Harriet reached into her robes, and tossed a small vial to the other girl. Inside the vial were three long, red hairs. "The hairs I obtained as well, so I can't use Polyjuice either. But, ultimately, you'll want to trust me because, with your help, I can set right a grievous wrong." Susan studied Harriet for another long moment.

"Alright. Just what is this wrong you want to make right?" Harriet sat on the edge of a desk.

"You'll want to sit down for this, I think." Susan raised an eyebrow, but seated herself into a chair. Harriet cleared her throat. "Sirius Black is innocent, and I can prove it." Susan was suddenly very glad she was sitting down.

"But…Auntie was there…that night…" Harriet tossed the red head another vial, this one filled with silver liquid.

"A memory of the interrogation of Peter Pettigrew under Veritaserum, by me, last week. He is alive. And everything Sirius Black is thought to have done, was in truth Peter Pettigrew. Well, except for escape from Azkaban. Sirius did do that. But, as it turns out, escaping from Azkaban isn't actually a crime. Susan, what I need from you is to convince your Aunt I'm not just a delusional girl, or some Slytherin trying to play the system for my own profit. What I want is for Peter Pettigrew to rot is Azkaban for the rest of his natural life for what he did to me, to my parents, to his friends, and especially to my godfather." By the look on her face, the vial in Susan's hand could have held the beard hairs of Merlin.

"Your…godfather? No one ever knew you had a godfather, especially after you went to live with those Muggles…" Harriet sighed deeply.

"Well, ok, I suppose this whole thing might be slightly self-serving. Sirius Black is my godfather. He was my father's best friend." After another long moment, Susan appeared to make a decision, and put the vial away in her robes.

"Alright, Harriet. I'll send a letter to Auntie. I'll try to explain everything." Harriet smiled brightly.

"Thank you, Susan. And don't worry about explaining everything. Explain what you need to, but just tell her to expect a letter from me as well. I know that memory won't hold up in court, since the Veritaserum usage was technically illegal. I'll work with your Aunt to get Pettigrew into DMLE custody. They can interrogate him themselves to their heart's content." Susan nodded, and stood from her chair.

"Then I'll tell Auntie to expect your letter. Thank you, Harriet, for being honest about this." Harriet waved her off.

"I considered just impersonating you, but I figured that your Aunt being who she is, it wouldn't hold up and I would just end up in jail myself. Thank you, Susan, for actually hearing me out, and agreeing to help me." Susan shook her head.

"If you're telling the truth, and I highly suspect you are, helping you is the only thing I could do." Harriet just smiled, and unlocked the door, warmth that had nothing to do with the Warming Charms on her robes bubbling in her chest.

'I will free you, Sirius. It is only a matter of time now.'

**00000**

**00000**

**AN: **Jeez, that one was a doozy. I ran over several possible ways that interrogation could go, but one of my friends I was using to bounce ideas off of pointed out to me that Harriet, like everyone else, has a breaking point, and hers was likely close, close enough that the sudden truth about the death of her parents combined with the culprit being helpless in front of her would lead directly to illegal, and likely Unforgivable, curses. I was forced to remind myself that Harriet is not Harry. She isn't Dark, but certainly far more Gray than Light. And this might just be the tip of the iceberg.

Anyway, as always, questions, comments, cries of anguish, pleas for more, aspirations you may wish to cast upon the legitimacy of my birth, recommendations for items to add to this list, and poorly formatted profanities (as applicable) may be submitted directly to me via the big box below.

~ExaltedChaos


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